Starting Out at Six Feet Under
by sonyat
Summary: It wasn't fun dying. It really wasn't fun waking up in a body that's supposed to be dead. Being a ninja in Naruto? Yeah, that's the last thing I want to do. So who the hell is Rin, and can someone get ahold of her to tell her she can have her body back? Oh, did I mention the giant demon turtle trapped inside of me? Is this the universe's idea of a bad joke? SI/OC, AU, slow build.
1. In Her Skin

**Rated T: **Strong language and violence. The rating will be changed to **M** as the story progresses for graphic violence and sexuality.

**Genre:** Drama/Adventure/Humour/Friendship, with Romance featuring later in the story.

**AU:** Certain aspects will diverge from (most notably chapter 675) canon and the Fourth Databook. I started writing this before a majority of the information we know now was released, and I will not be changing most of what was pre-written or planned. I will please ask you not to tell me that I'm "wrong" or incorrect in what I have written. I can assure you that ninety-nine percent of the time, I know. Trust me. If you still feel the need to tell me, please PM me so that we may further discuss it.

**Warnings: **Please note this fic will depict a spectrum of sexualities and relationship types. If you are uncomfortable with this, you may wish to discontinue reading.

**Inspired by:** _SINHEART_/_reSINHEART _by Marmaroth, _Dreaming of Sunshine_ by Silver Queen, and _I've Got You Under My Skin_ by Frank Sinatra.

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><p><strong>Starting Out at Six Feet Under<strong>

**In Her Skin**

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><p>It wasn't fun dying—it was, in fact, the worst thing that'd ever happened to me, obviously. Then again, it <em>really<em> wasn't fun waking up in a body that was supposed to be _dead_. Forget the first part, I could have lived with that (_ha!_). _Re_birth is, without a doubt, the worst thing that's ever happened to me.

The story of my death is not an exciting one. There was nothing spectacular about it. It was pretty much my own fault, really. We're going to go back a little bit for this one, to just before I died.

It all started one evening in my best friend's basement. It was raining like crazy outside, the rain interfering with the power every now and again, causing Claire to threaten her fuse box every time it happened. We were doing the usual; she sitting in front of her flat-screen TV (hooked up to her laptop, mind you) fawning over anime characters, and I was sitting behind her on a plush leather couch, scribbling doodles in my notebook and trying to ignore her ridiculous cooing.

_God, I miss that couch._

"Omigod, he is _such_ a cutie!" Claire squealed loudly, rubbing her face against the screen then kissing the still image with a wet "smerp". I was sure her brother could hear us upstairs over the thunder. I flushed a little at the thought. He was a little older, really cute, and an aspiring writer—something I could definitely appreciate since it was my favourite hobby.

"Oh! My adorable, powerful, full-to-the-brim-with-liquid-sex, sexy, sexy love!" she squealed again when she unpaused it, and the animated object of her affection began to speak in Japanese.

"Obito, did you launch the plan without even sealing the Eight and Nine-Tails?"

I didn't need to see to recognize that commanding voice. Damnit, I should have known the second she started with the liquid sex part. Oh yippee, we're doing the Madara thing again, slash sarcasm. I sighed and looked up to read the subtitles, trying to understand what she was carrying on about.

"Can you drop the Uchiha wank for one night?" I asked tiredly, pushing aside my heavy, dyed bangs. I really hated when she started with this. I was probably being too mean, though. I decided to lighten up on her, if only for the fact we hadn't seen each other in about a week and a half.

"My, my, aren't you an ornery bitch," Claire commented wryly, confirming my suspicions.

"My bad," I told her with a wink, drawing a heart with Jenn plus Claire written in the middle. I flashed the sign at her.

A clarification: We're not interested in each other that way. It's just the way we roll.

"What have you been up to all this time?" Madara asked one of the other characters in the background.

She winked back at me and said, "Sorry darlin', my heart belongs to this stud." She pointed at him. "I haven't been up to anything bad, I swear," Claire answered him, nuzzling his 2D face. I heard static as she rubbed her skin against the TV. Such a classy lady.

"You were supposed to bring me back with the Rinne Tensei."

My eyes narrowed in disinterest. His voice was starting to get annoying; especially considering Claire kept turning up the volume _every-__single-time_ he spoke. "Why don't you just watch it in English?"

Claire stopped molesting the television to turn around and give me a 'WTF' look, liberally peppered with 'you are so stupid'. "Because it literally came out last Thursday? Also, I don't watch dubs, you know this. Duh." She sassed me a little in return, her lower lip jutting out in what I guessed she thought was a cute pout, but it looked more like she was constipated.

I couldn't contain my grin and chuckled at her. "Sorry, you're right. I can't follow all the different series you watch. Is this the episode where Naruto beats the ever-loving shit out of Sonic the Hedgehog?" I wasn't a big anime fan, most of my information coming from Claire. Out of all the anime she subjected me to, I enjoyed Naruto the most, but I certainly didn't follow it the way she did. Hell, most of the time I didn't even bother paying attention to it.

_Huge mistake number one!_

And if you haven't guessed by now, I'm no Madara fan—_nor will I ever be_. I never understood why Claire worshipped him so much. He's far too OP for my tastes (OP meaning overpowered for those of you that aren't staunch MMO players). I was hoping Naruto, in all his fiery, glowing glory, was going to whip dat ass one of these days, simply to see Claire's hilarious reaction. I suppose if I had to pick a favourite character from memory, it would be the shark-guy Kisame from the Akatsuki that Claire also so loved—not nearly as much as she loved Madara, though.

In response to my question, Claire gasped in horror, hands flying back to the TV screen. She stroked it like a madwoman, never breaking eye-contact with me and whispering heatedly, "Don't listen to her, Madara-sama, I'll always love you, I promise. I'm here for you."

"I can't depend on any of you," said Madara on screen with a displeased expression.

Claire's face was priceless.

I cracked up laughing at the odd coincidence and her utterly forlorn cry of "Why have you forsaken me, God of the Uchiha!"

_I guess they're not bad looking for cartoons,_ I considered, somewhat weirded-out by my own thoughts. _Good lord, I can't believe I'm thinking about this! What has that woman done to me?_

The rest of the episode continued on with the back-story of the other villain, which Claire lamented since she wanted to perv some more on the young-looking Madara, not his senior-citizen self. Like usual, I ended up not listening too closely, more entranced with my small sketches and notes on the next chapter of the novel I was writing. Yay vampires? Meh.

The night passed as it did in the same manner after anime time: we played some first-person shooters, out-screaming all the pissed off guys online, then bitched about our first-world problems. In the final hours before I left, Claire let me do her skin, hair, and makeup for practice. I was grateful she let me work on her; it helped in my cosmetology courses a fair amount. Of course she made it out like it was a big deal because she was no girly-girl, but I was pretty sure she enjoyed it.

At eleven o'clock, it was time for me to head home. The real storm was supposed to hit by one and I didn't want to get caught in it. I had to get up at eight the next day anyway, so that was okay with me.

I had my last conversation with my best friend on her front porch, watching the rain pound down beyond the safety of the awning. Ancient, massive maple trees swayed and groaned in the wind, threatening the quaint houses they loomed over. The lightning and thunder had really picked up, giving rise to an irrational fear within me. I forced it down. I was in my twenties now, being afraid of that was so pathetic. I wanted to go home.

"See you tomorrow, Clefairy," I said to her with a two-fingered salute, something I did fairly often. If I had have known this would be the last time I would see Claire…

"Are you sure you want to leave in this weather?" she asked me with a frown. I should've taken that as a sign to stay. Claire never worried, I was the worrier, but today I'd felt oddly calm.

_They say that's the way you feel before you die._

"I'll be fine," I said, flipping my hood up.

_Famous last words._

So I set out on my journey home, a whopping fifteen minutes.

Sorry, there's my sarcasm again.

_No problem,_ I thought even as the force of the wind threatened to knock me down. _It's only fifteen minutes. I'll be good._ Rain whipped around me as I held my coat shut tightly, shivering with cold. My clothes were soaked through almost instantly. _So maybe this wasn't my best idea._

I started to run, wanting to get out of the insane storm as soon as possible. _The storm will really pick up at 1AM my ass, weather-dick!_

And I was good until about halfway home. It was then that everything went to shit. In the most _cliché_ of all events, lightning struck a utility pole.

I passed under it right as it struck. The transformer at the top exploded in a fantastic shower of sparks. I screamed at the noise and light, and started to run faster. I don't think I even realized what had happened, but some instinctive part of me knew bright lights and loud noises were bad this late at night… in a storm.

Yeah, these weren't my best moments. I can see why I died.

The wind, as powerful as it was, made full-blown running nearly impossible. Over the noise of the storm and the transformer blowing, I heard a sickening snap.

I did the stupidest thing I could have done at the time and looked up. Several cables came loose from the pole, electricity crackling dangerously from the severed ends.

This shouldn't have been a problem with the wind working against me, therefore swinging the cables behind me, right?

Wrong. Fate, or God—whatever you believe in—really wanted me to die.

The wind _changed_ directions on me. When I realized what was going on, I tried to haul ass out of there. I never stood a chance. I could have gone left, right, forward, it didn't matter. Too many cables had come loose, and I was nowhere near fast enough to outrun them.

In those last few moments, time slowed down. I looked behind me and watched with wide, horrified eyes as one of the thick wires swung towards me. I tried to dodge to no avail.

It hit me in the chest, pain like nothing I had ever known, incredibly intense and piercing—muscles burning, blood boiling, skin _melting_, every _horrible_ thing out of Hellraiser—like millions of needles skewering my body with all the skin pulled back. It felt like it went on forever, this infinite pain, when very likely it was no more than five seconds.

At blessed last, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. I let the creeping darkness take me.

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><p><strong>三<strong>

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><p><em>Did I die?<em>

**Ba-bump**

_That noise…_

**Ba-bump**

_Am I dead?_

**Ba-bump**

_I should be dead._ My fingers twitched.

**Ba-bump**

_Then why can I feel?_ Everything _hurt_.

**BA-BUMP**

I felt my heart clench painfully in my chest, anchoring me to reality. The disgusting metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, dripping down my throat. My skin was on fire, the burning so intense it almost felt cold. All of my nerve endings screamed out in agony. The smell around me was rotten and overpowering.

"Ugh," I coughed wetly, splattering blood over my face as I drew in great gasping breathes of air, feeling as if I'd been on the verge of drowning. Oh my god, that _smell_… I grappled with my half-responsive hands, trying to make out some semblance of where I was. I couldn't feel the rain anymore. Had I lain unconscious for so long? My hands told me I was laying inside a few inches of some kind of viscous liquid. It was sticky. What the...?

Suddenly, the stench became too much for me and I shot upwards, much to my body's protest, to vomit violently. Each heave made it feel like my heart was going to burst from my chest, Xenomorph style. It hurt so much, so deeply in my chest.

"God," I croaked between heaves. My voice was hoarse and entirely unrecognizable. At least the blood taste would come out. "What have I done—" Blood and bile interrupted my plea for help to someone I didn't believe existed. "—have I done to… deserve… this." My stomach gave a final brutal squeeze. The strength of it nearly knocked me back out.

"Fuck," I swore, leaning on my forearms in the thick, putrid fluid to spit the remaining bile out of my mouth. I felt the ends of my hair—the few strands that were still clean—dip into it, coming away heavy and clumped together.

Wait. What? My hair isn't that long. I'm practically bald, I only have bangs!

Don't I?

I opened my eyes, finding it hard to focus. Everything was red. _I'm having some kind of stroke, aren't I? _I thought, dismayed. I got to live through being viciously electrocuted, and now _this_? I must have been some kind of terrible serial killer in a past life.

The world began to slowly clear, and I realized with a start, that yes, everything was indeed red. It was all red because I was kneeling ankle-deep in a gigantic pool of _blood_. I tried to scream, but my throat was too injured. It came out as more of a high-pitched hiss.

"Oh my god, oh my god," I panicked, each word producing the feeling of razors slashing the inside of my esophagus.

There were twisted, malformed trees everywhere, all decorated with decimated bodies, oozing blood. That explained what seemed like the Olympic-sized swimming pool of blood around me, but _why_? I almost started laughing, the scene so insane and nauseating that it didn't seem real. My stomach churned. I fought back the urge to start throwing up again.

Jesus Christ, what was going on here? Was this hell? Had I died and gone to hell?

_You made Kakashi kill you. _Something niggled at the back of my mind. What was that? I shook my head dazedly, trying to clear it. I couldn't keep looking at all this death, it was going to drive me crazy.

I mushed earth in my palms as I made fists under the blood-lake, staring blankly out into the distance. It felt real, _looked real_. My fingernails bit into the skin of my palms. I could feel pain. I could feel sick. This wasn't hell, the afterlife, whatever. I refused to believe it.

This had to be _real_.

My hair clung to my chin and neck, wet and stinking. In some inane attempt to forget the inexplicable experience I was going through, my blood-soaked hands went to it. I grabbed great chunks of it, running my hands through its length. I pulled hard.

"Ow!" I hissed, not at all expecting it to have hurt because there was no way this hair wasn't a wig! How did I grow fourteen inches of hair in the span of two to twelve hours? It wasn't just that; my body felt lighter, like I'd lost a ton of weight, like things were missing—_OhmygodIhavenotits!_

I gaped at my chest, hands hovering in front of where I'd once had moderately-sized boobs, nothing large, but still decent! Was this some kind of reverse puberty?

I soon noticed that I had a bigger problem than my lack of breasts. A huge hole was ripped into my shirt right where my heart sat. The goods were pretty much on display, except they weren't at all the goods I remembered. A terrible red-pink scar, gnarled and bumpy, marred the skin of more than half of my left breast. I touched it gingerly, wincing when the slightest contact made it burn, sending a shooting pain directly into my heart. For a second, I couldn't breathe, only exhale and give a shaky cough until the palpitations passed.

When did that happen to me? The injury looked nothing like an electrical burn or a 'melt-you-down-to-your-bones-because-you-ran-into-a-lightning-strike' burn.

_Use the __Mystical Palm jutsu to heal yourself. You have enough chakra now._

"What's happening to me?" I whispered to myself, the bizarre itch in my brain feeling returning for a brief moment. "Where am I?" This was certainly not my neighbourhood, or Claire's. It wasn't even civilization. There were no landmarks, save for what I was currently in, a break in the middle of a forest. The moon was high in the sky, so it was still night, but had it been full? That did _not_ seem right. I couldn't remember. The one damn time I'm not paying attention to the moon…

_You're in the Land of Fire._ Again, that strange feeling, like something wriggling deep inside my head, attempting to get out. I ignored it in favour of more pressing matters.

I ripped the top half of my shirt off, using the extra fabric in the sleeves to fashion a make-shift tube top to cover the girls and my new awful scar. _These aren't my clothes,_ I realized with dawning horror. Cold chills ran through me. _I need to get out of here, I need to get out of here now!_ Some deep primal part of me was telling me to run (yeah, because the blood pool and demented forestry weren't enough to inspire that in the first place, go figure).

_Chakra signatures, people are coming._ Gritting my teeth, I clutched my head. This was already getting old. What was it? Some repressed memory trying to surface? It didn't matter, I needed to leave.

I took hold of the blood slick tree next to me, using it to rise. It took all of my strength to pull myself to my feet. I swear I was sweating by the time I managed to stand on badly shaking legs—legs that were too thin to be mine. _Get out of this screwed-up mess first, then freak out. _Okay, so there were still some working brain-cells left in my head, good to know.

I started to walk slowly, small steps to make sure I wouldn't go careening headfirst back into the decidedly Doom-y landscape. Ten steps in I realized I could go faster, so I did. My walk turned into a jog, then into a sprint, and soon I was flying at a speed I'd never known to possess through the forest in a direction that made me feel safe. My newfound ability made me laugh out loud, part in delight, part in disbelief. It was amazing. Where had this come from? The weakness didn't leave my body, but it lifted a little, an invigorating energy coursing through my muscles, filling them with some unknown power.

I couldn't exactly explain the 'direction that made me feel safe' part, how I knew that this was a safe way to go, but the farther northwest I went, the better I felt.

_It's because you're going to Konoha._

"Shut up," I snarled, and was immediately not sure why I'd done it. My confident pace faltered and I tripped over a root, sending myself hurtling forward. Apparently I hadn't understood just how fast I was going. I sailed through the air and tried to curl in on myself; if I hit the ground chest first like I was expecting to… Well, I didn't want to think about what could happen.

Instead, I landed on my side, the force of the impact enough to drive the air from my lungs, and skidded for a few feet before rolling a couple times to a stop. I wheezed and clutched at my burning wound, the jolts of stabbing pain striking spasms through my chest and down my legs. They kicked out like I was having some kind of reflex test done. To any bystander it probably looked like I was having a seizure. _Oh man._

_I definitely shouldn't have tried to run,_ I told myself with a grimace. I couldn't have been doing it for more than five to ten minutes—still way more than I ever used to be able to do. Was I far enough from danger, from that shitty hellscape?

The sound of running water came to my ears. _Nah, that ain't no sink girl, you're in the middle of a forest! _With a shaky hand, I wiped the rather gross amount of sweat from my forehead and rolled over to face what had to be a river. I sighed in relief when I was right. Maybe I could wash off some of the crusty blood now. God, I probably looked like a walking corpse. _Well, if the apocalypse ever did come, I always wanted it to be the zombie kind. I'll fit right in!_

"Ouch!" I exclaimed as I tried to get up. Oh, _come on_, this really isn't funny. Now I have to deal with a twisted ankle on top of all this other bullshit?

_No. Use the __Mystical Palm jutsu._

"Ah, whatever," I said with an eyeroll. I hated when people told me what to do. Before I knew what I was doing, my hands flew through making some kind of hand signs and were above me ankle, glowing green. It began to feel better as I concentrated with my chakra, pleased with how good my control was. I'd always been naturally skilled with it, but all my hard work refining it was really paying off. After all, check out what a great iryō-nin I've become, at my age too! I smiled proudly to myself.

I checked my ankle over when I was finished, feeling over the bones for fractures and testing the ligaments with a simple diagnostic jutsu. _Nicely done indeed._ Fully healed!

...

_Uh… fully healed? How did I just heal myself?_

Er, wait, go back! Something's not right. I made the hand signs again from some memory I didn't know I had, and concentrated. That powerful feeling returned, a little similar to what I did to my muscles in the forest, but not really? My hands pulsed with soft green light once more.

The goofy smile vanished from my face as my brain caught up to my racing thoughts. I frowned, eyes bulging out of their sockets as I looked at it, well and truly looked at it.

I'm sorry, full stop: GLOWING GREEN?! CHAKRA?! JUTSU?!

"Oh my god!" I yelled for the umpteenth time—instantly regretting it for the way it shredded my throat. I really do call upon an entity I don't believe in quite a bit. Another weird habit.

_Be quiet, the enemy could hear you._

"Dude, screw your 'be quiet' jazz! I'm fucking glowing!" I ranted hysterically, watching as the glow sputtered out and died due to my lack of focus. "Chakra?! Like chakra in Naruto? Like the chakra the blondie with big tits uses? Tsunana? Tsu-something? Whatever! Holy shit, holy shit!"

I scooted to the edge of the river and looked in, unable to ignore the signs any longer.

The face gawking back at me was not mine, even though she mimicked everything I did.

She looked at least nine or ten years younger than me, maybe fourteen years old if my guess was correct—

_Yes, you're thirteen turning fourteen._

—with brown hair stopping a few inches under her chin, brown eyes, and one thick purple marking on each cheek. I stretched my cheeks, watching them move with the skin. So they weren't paint, and didn't really look like tattoos—I had a lot before this. I recalled Naruto characters often had these from birth.

_Chakra markings._

Wow, I'm really considering that I'm now a Naruto character. _Great_. It did make a modicum of sense though; I could do crazy feats with my body—I didn't really think it was my body—that I would never have dreamed possible before, I had chakra, I had jutsu, and knew how to use both like it was second nature. Most importantly, I had a headband.

_Hitai-ate._

The headband I wore told me what I needed to know, that I was from Konoha, the hidden village the show focused most on. It also told me I was a ninja that murdered people.

_Not happening,_ I thought, and ripped the headband off, throwing it into the river. If I had to play this weird game, this weird _life_, hopefully, _at least_ until I woke up—or some higher power took pity on me and ended this Sims game—I wasn't going to do it as a ninja.

_You're a proud kunoichi from Konoha. You wanted to die for Konoha._

I would never go to Konoha or any other ninja village. I was going to ride this out as a normal person, even if I had to hide my new, cool powers.

The purple marks on my face needed to be covered up. Despite the fact that they made me—er, whoever I was supposed to be—look way less boring, they were pretty distinctive, and someone looking for me would instantly know who I was. ...Unless tons of people had these giant things on their faces—which I highly doubted since I didn't remember seeing anyone with them on the show.

Actually, no, there was that one girl from the last episode I'd watched with Claire. I remembered looking up because of the obscenely bright light (yes, I'm a moth) and seeing her get killed with a lightning-filled hand… through her… chest…

I looked down at my covered injury, trembling, with eyes so big they could've popped out of my head. My mind boggling at the implication, I thought of the electricity-filled cable hitting my chest.

I came to one very impossible conclusion.

"Son of a _bitch_!"

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><p><strong>三<strong>

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><p>"Where is she?" A mismatched pair of intense, bloodshot eyes bore into the stunned man's own. The Sharingan burned brightly in its socket, unmoving and wide.<p>

"Hatake-taichō…" Kakashi's subordinate breathed out, frozen, unable to pry off the young jōnin's white-knuckled grip. His furious screams of "_Who killed them_?!" lingered hauntingly in the night. Kakashi appeared a wraith, haggard, wounded, and dead-eyed; a shadow of himself, delirious from severe chakra exhaustion. He would _die_ if he wasn't treated quickly.

Kakashi's badly trembling fists gripped the collar of the shinobi's flak jacket tighter, pulling him closer. "Where is she?" he repeated, a hint of something terrible—Despair? Mania? Desperation?—bleeding into his raspy voice.

"Taichō, Nohara-san is—she's—" the man fumbled with his words, knowing there was nothing he could say to placate his captain, "she's… _gone_."

And that was the truth. Nohara Rin was simply _gone_, missing in action. There was no body to be found.

Kakashi blinked then, like he was coming out of some horrible dream and into a more horrible reality. Slowly, he swivelled around, eyeing the massacre around him. _Gone, gone, gone,_ echoed hollowly in his head. Rin was gone, _dead_ by _his _hand, because he had not been able to protect her.

He had broken his promise.

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><p><strong>三<strong>

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><p>Nohara Rin would be declared dead in absentia like her teammate before her, but unlike Obito, who had been buried somewhere in Kusa, those who had been close to her would be left forever wondering:<p>

Where on earth had Rin's body gone?

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><p><strong>三<strong>

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><p>"You showed him mercy because he was a comrade?" Madara asked, unimpressed.<p>

"No… It was fine either way. Whether he lives or dies—"

"She got up and walked away," the original White Zetsu suddenly said in confusion, interrupting him.

"Insolent creature, now is not the time," Madara berated with a piercing look.

"Rin got up and walked away," Zetsu repeated, looking as confused as he sounded, eye falling on Obito.

The glare Obito pinned on him was absolutely murderous. His hands clenched into shaking fists. "What part of that do you think is funny?"

"Wow, that's messed up," Guruguru exclaimed from around Obito. "She seriously got up and walked away like some kind of zombie!"

"I felt her pulse, she was dead," Obito told them with a snarl, single Sharingan morphing back into its Mangekyō state.

Madara saw that this was going to a bad place. The boy was about to agree to his plans and the Zetsu were on track to ruin it. "Enough, both of you. Begone."

Almost unwillingly, Guruguru uncurled himself from Obito, steadying him as he reformed to make sure he didn't fall over. After all, the right half of his body was unstable for the time being. Obito didn't stop glaring at him even as the clone offered its help.

Zetsu and Guruguru slunk out of the main cavern.

"Your clones saw it right? I don't have faulty wiring?" Guruguru asked when they were out of earshot.

"Yes," Zetsu confirmed. "She got up, went a little crazy, and ran away," he said in disbelief.

Guruguru thought about it for a second with a hum.

"Do humans with large holes in their chests usually walk away from that like nothing happened?"

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><p><strong>AN: **And now you know the timeline! She was "dead" long enough for Obito to have left her there, but not enough for the Konoha forces to find her. I always wondered what happened to Rin's body. Did Obito take it with him and bury her? Did he leave it and then Konoha reinforcements took it back with them? I don't think it's ever said anywhere.

A big thank you goes out to Peyton LeVay for helping me sort out my timeline! She also writes a Rin fic, which I highly recommend.

I'm aware I do some switching between tenses. Some of it is purposeful. Please inform me if it is awkward or terribly distracting.

Reviews seriously make my day.


	2. Prisons without Walls

**Starting Out at Six Feet Under**

**Prisons without Walls**

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><p>If I'm correct about what's happening to me at the moment, I'm essentially an aspiring makeup artist and hobbyist writer trying to make it in the Narutoverse that I stupidly did not pay as much attention to as I should have. This is going to end well.<p>

_Not._

* * *

><p>"Time's almost up," Guruguru said, watching the still forms of Madara and Obito from a distance. They stood with their eyes locked together in a trance-like state, deep inside the elder's genjutsu.<p>

"Yeah," Zetsu replied, conflicted, "Madara chose him, though. If Obito thinks Rin is alive, he might abandon Madara's plan. We can't have that."

"But Obito is our friend, and he loves her," Guruguru sighed.

"He doesn't believe us."

"I don't think I would believe us. What kind of human recovers from that kind of thing?"

"Apparently her," Zetsu shrugged, stroking his chin in contemplation. He thought back to what little jargon his clones had heard from the Kiri-nin; Kirigakure testing something, needing to experiment with human bodies. Could whatever Kiri had done to that girl potentially saved her?

"We should find out what they did. It's certainly interesting, a human that can recover so flawlessly from a fatal wound," Guruguru said. Speech between the clones was unnecessary due to their telepathy, but they enjoyed it all the same, and in time would gain appropriate nicknames from it.

Zetsu hummed in agreement. His thoughts were elsewhere, however. What if Rin were to agree to the plan? Hadn't she seen enough death, going so far as to offer her own life? Wouldn't she want to see a perfect world too? Why couldn't Obito and Rin see that together?

Guruguru tilted his head curiously at the thought. Slowly, a growing amusement filtered through their link. A person like that was useful. Their plan had merit and it would be entertaining. Humans really were _so_ _entertaining_.

"Has she gone past the perimeter yet?"

"Nearly," Zetsu reached out through his network of clones. "Eh, but chakra like hers isn't hard to track down again. Not that that would even be a problem for us."

"True, but I'll go anyway."

"If Madara questions your absence, we'll be caught…"

"Not at all," Guruguru began to sink into the ground. "Obito's still mad at us. Madara won't ask me to return yet, and by then I'll already be back."

Would they keep this a secret from Madara?

_Yes._

After all, it wasn't like it was something bad, right? And if it became detrimental to Tsuki no Me, well, that could be dealt with easily too.

The Zetsu would keep it their secret.

_For now._

* * *

><p><strong>三<strong>

* * *

><p>"Son of a bitch," I repeated again breathlessly, staring intently at myher—

_Your's. Nohara Rin's. You. Rin._

—reflection, at the face that simultaneously was and wasn't mine. Tentatively, I reached out to touch it, needing some sort of confirmation that this was really me. Her hand followed the path mine made, shaking as it came ever closer. She wore my expression of numb shock that was quickly diffusing into a glassy-eyed fear.

Where was the grown woman with a sickly face, grey eyes, and a shaved head fronted by a bright purple plumage of bangs? I'd always needed glasses, and yet here I could see clearer than I'd ever been able to.

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when my hand broke the water's surface, shattering the mirror image. I flinched at the sensation of the cold water. Though the ripples made it hazy, the reflection of a dark-haired, dark-eyed girl with purple rectangles on her cheeks remained.

I made a noise of surprise. To describe the moment as sobering would have been an understatement. Despite that, I couldn't help but think of the _Who I Am Inside_ lyrics from Mulan. I suppose I truly am "special".

While all cues pointed to this person really being me and this body mine, good ol' stubborn me just wasn't going to accept it so easily, so I started thinking (strictly) hypothetically. Say I really am a Naruto character now—which particular one I still have no idea—what do I do from here? Where do I go? I just chucked my headband—

_Hitai-ate._

—into the river and declared that I wasn't going to play ninja, which I most certainly intended to stick by. Espionage, seduction, and murder? No thank you, give me back my boring life, please. Well, I don't want to be dead either, so axe that last part unless I'm actually in a coma headed towards a remarkable recovery (yeah, I know it's too much to ask for).

Absentmindedly, I cupped water in my hands and began splashing it over my face and neck, scraping at the dry blood there. The sensation did nothing to alleviate my feelings that there might be an off-chance that this could be a dream.

What, exactly, did I know about Naruto, beyond the basics of the show and the main characters? All of the main characters are probably in Konoha—still not going—so that's out. After them, all I know are the Akatsuki and Madara.

...

Please excuse me while I go laugh my ass off over how well _that_ would turn out. Have the Akatsuki even formed yet? Is the real Uchiha Madara still an old man, or is he dead, or Edo Tensei'd? I need some help here. I doubted any of these people would help me, besides, they were still all shinobi, still all people I didn't want to associate with if I was going to shoot for normal.

What civilians did I know?

…The Ichiraku Ramen father and daughter duo? Goddamnit, did Konoha really have to be central to _everything?_

_Kakashi would help you. Konohagakure _**_would _**_help you._

"Hell no!" I declared, then shoved my head under the water on a whim. Although I didn't have any shampoo, I was sure I could dislodge the disgusting, caked-on blood with enough force. I clawed and tugged at it like my life depended on it.

I had to think harder. Surely there was an answer among the plethora of random trivia I knew about Naruto.

Any information fresh in my mind would be from the newer episodes I'd starting watching weekly with Claire, and those all had to do with the Fourth Shinobi World War.

Shit, where am I in the timeline? Is this Pre-Time Skip or Shippuden? If this is actually happening to me, I am so, _so_ screwed right now! How am I supposed to live through this when I don't know WHEN and WHERE I am?

_The Third Shinobi World War has only just ended._

I raised my dishevelled head from the river with a sharp intake of air. Elegance: I radiate it. A good amount of the muck stuck to my head felt like it was gone.

In all the fanfiction I'd proofread for Claire, her characters usually headed straight for Konoha, or wherever their favourite boytoy happened to be stationed, to get answers. I didn't want to go to Konoha for reasons previously stated and had no favourite character, male or female, to follow around.

Hmm, I guess I'm a bit of a liar since I did disclose Kisame as one, but wasn't the village he came from hailed as the Bloody Mist? Um, no thank you (but thank you Claire for drilling some facts about the series into me)! And I can only imagine he'd be scary as all hell in person. That, and he's potentially in Akatsuki at the moment.

Our meeting would probably go as such: Hey, yeah, I'm from another world where you're a cartoon and I _kinda_ know the future, but not really because I'm the noob that didn't pay attention. Wanna be BFFs? I can be the token helpless female that follows you around, and maybe we'll fall in love and live happily ever after? Insert corny sword and penis joke here. Oh, you're not cool with that? Okay, I'll just leave—whoops I'm dead.

Sounds fun, right? Yeah, no, not for me either. I don't think I'd have the metaphorical balls to go through with the dick joke which takes most of the hilarity out of that, anyway. If I'm going to do everything in my power to avoid being noticed, then the following someone around idea isn't a good one at all.

But really, how insane am I for considering that I'm now a Naruto character? Who am I supposed to be anyway? _With my luck, I bet I'm some sort of minor character,_ I thought wryly. Ha, I'd be okay with being a minor character, though. Is she significant to the plot? Am _I_ the important one now? Lordy, I really hope not. I'm not good at being important. Probably not with what little screen-time she got. _She did appear in that last episode though. Urgh, why wasn't I paying attention again? Who is she?_

_You are Nohara Rin, chūnin of Konohagakure._

Shoving the wholly sarcastic and totally useless thoughts aside, I put my attention back where it belonged: on anything that would help me get out of this mess. And speaking of messes, I certainly looked like one.

My skin itched like hell. I needed to wash off the gunk that covered me.

_So you will listen? The scent of blood is strong, distinct. The way you are now, no one would have any issues tracking you._

With a shiver, I realized not because it was uncomfortable or gross; I needed to wash it off before someone picked up the scent and tracked me down. This was another thing I somehow just _knew_, and I was going to follow my gut on it for now; after all, it hadn't steered me wrong quite yet. So far it was unpleasant being a ninja.

(Note to self: get out of being a ninja.)

_Unlikely; this is a necessary part of achieving your goal. Will you give up after you've come this far?_

While the air was warm and humid—thankfully; I had no illusions that if it had been any cooler I'd be dead—the river wasn't warm. It was in no way a good idea to just go jumping straight in in case the current was stronger deeper in. I would need to be a little creative here. The front of my skirt was the only part of my outfit that wasn't (mostly) drenched in now dry blood and viscera, so I tore it off entirely and dunked it in the river.

After several minutes of furiously scrubbing my skin raw, I realized this was about as good as it was going to get. While I was no longer completely crusty with dry blood, I looked far from normal. I still appeared like I'd just walked out of a warzone—in all likelihood I did. A quick look down at my reflection told me my hair remained filthy, though. Even through the vigorous wash, some parts were still matted with blood.

_I'm in Naruto. I'm a Naruto character. I'm in Naruto._ These words ran through my mind almost non-stop as I continued to try to figure out what to do next. No matter how I swung it, it made absolutely _no sense_. How does one just become someone else entirely, let alone an anime character? How was I so sure this wasn't some kind of coma-dream? I was all but struck by lightning. Maybe I was really alive in "my world", and all of this was a product of my increasingly insane imagination.

Since I'd already determined I wasn't dead, therefore this wasn't any form of the afterlife, I needed to figure out what was going on. I mean, I didn't die, right?—though I was sure hundreds of millions of volts of electricity surging through my heart should have killed me. I feel like I would definitely know if I did.

_Yes, and no._

Sure, I've just been through an entirely traumatic experience, but to consider myself in another world, in another body? _Come _**_on_**_._ If I really died, this wasn't how reincarnation worked. You don't suddenly get dropped off into an already living body, interrupting somebody's life experience.

_But you haven't, not really._

"No, I'm pretty sure I have," I said, annoyed, while closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. It felt like something inside wanted out badly, clawing and tearing inside of my head.

My voice remained rough and choked, any words I spoke bringing pain. Why was I talking anyway? Was it perhaps an attempt to keep myself from going completely off the deep end? That I kept talking to myself spoke volumes about how well the tactic was working.

Grimacing, I stroked my throat and wondered if I could heal it the same way I had my ankle. I seemed to be trained heavily as a—an iryō-nin, after all. It was hard to believe I was seriously thinking that's what I was. Then again, I'd been convincing myself out of meeting canon characters...

_You never want to see your family or friends ever again?_

Ignoring what I could only describe as lumpy noises in my brain, my eyes caught my reflection as I went to make the seals for my healing technique. I paused. It was hard not to gape at it as I had been doing for god knows how long now. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it every time they glanced across the shimmering water.

One hand hovered over my chest, where according to my memory I should have had a fist-sized, round hole. How was _she_ alive? How was _I_ alive?

**I would very much like an answer to that too. N-not that I'm complaining, though!**

My whole body froze at the words right next to my ear, and then whipped around wildly, on my feet in a nanosecond. Without thinking, my hand darted to the holster strapped to my thigh, whipping out a knife—

_Kunai._

—a-a _kunai_, that I twirled between my fingers to position correctly. I wonder what disturbed me more, that I could wield a deadly weapon with such ease, or the voice echoing around me.

They had said it right _in_ _my ear_, and now they were gone? Could anyone move that fast? It simply wasn't possible!

_How many times have you seen Minato-sensei do it? This is nothing new._

"Who's there?" I called, instantly regretting how utterly stupid it was of me to do so. Who asks the bad guys if they're out there waiting to pounce? _Me._ Derp. Sigh.

I stood there with my weapon ready, in a fighting stance, ready to lash out at anyone that came my way. My breathing remained harsh and ragged, chest heaving and throat burning.

_Too loud. Calm down._

The hand clenching my knife—kunai shook. Yeah, I sure looked real threatening. The light of the moon sitting so brightly in the sky made the killer point of the kunai glint dangerously. Frankly, the small kunai looked more imposing than I did.

_Holding it too tightly; you'll overthrow your balance when you thrust, and when you throw it will have minimal accuracy._

But nothing happened. No badass enemy shinobi burst out of the trees at me, or demons, or that little girl out of The Ring, or any other wacky things I could think of. The night remained as silent as it had been, the only sound the rushing of water beside me. That feeling deep in my core that had made me instinctively want to run before wasn't there. Inexplicably, there was no one around that could have said that to me, least of all right in my ear.

_There are no chakra signatures. They're gone. Are you listening? Listen, listen, LISTEN! Why won't you listen?_

What was that? What in the ever-loving hell was that? Somebody had said, crystal clear and stern and angry, that they wanted to know how I was alive as well. And that they weren't complaining about it, that part said like a child not wanting to be reprimanded. It actually confused me enough to break through my panic. I mean, what? I wasn't complaining either. Not yet, at least.

I felt like I might begin, now that there was a bodiless voice surrounding me.

So, I'm apparently a Naruto character, schizophrenic and/or being haunted? Maybe both? Maybe _all?_ Is it okay to prefer death to this weird reincarnation now?

I'm not ashamed to admit I sat down and tried not to cry. I had no clue about what was happening to me. It was funny at first, the thought that I might have been in an anime, but it was becoming too real. I wanted to go home. It was all _wrong_.

"Rin, get it together, what are you even thinking?" I slapped my cheeks twice, dragging my fingers down them. The shape of my eyes warped comically as I tugged on the skin there.

**Getting caught in this, you're pathetic,** the same voice I'd heard moments before told me, sounding loathing and self-loathing, furious and afraid all at once. It was distinctly male. His tone had changed completely. **Let me ****_out_****.**

It wasn't in my ear. It was in my _head_.

**Yours is the lesser will. You will free me.**

_…__No._

The kunai slipped from my hand as I stared vacantly into the brilliant night sky.

_No, cut that shit out, Rin. You're losing it!_

I raked my nails down my face, trailing red marks in their wake.

**Let me out, pitiful vessel.** The amount of rage in those five small words was mind-boggling. His words drummed across my consciousness, growing louder and louder as they reverberated against the inside of my skull, a cacophony of malevolence and hatred.

**Does a little girl presume to cage ****_ME_****?**

The more the voice spoke, the more idiotic it became to me. Giggles started to burble up from my ruined throat, high-pitched and bordering on manic. My life as I knew it was over. This was insanity at its finest; a voice in my head, fighting against me.

_I don't want to do this anymore._

"Okay, okay, joke's over!" I said to the forest, trying to suppress some of the crazed laughter escaping my mouth. My whole body shook with the effort. "This is Punk'd, right? Is this the part where Ashton Kutcher and the camera crew pop up and tell me I'm a dumbass?"

As if to mock me, the chirping of crickets answered.

"What? _Nothing_?" I called shrilly, gesturing with open arms for some kind of sign, and then I realized something. I shook now for a different reason.

Did I just… did I just call myself Rin? Who's Rin?

The distorted image of what I thought to be me flickered madly against the river's current.

Is this Rin? Am I supposed to be Rin?

_Yes, finally._

The intense pressure behind my eyebrows lifted a little, and for whatever reason this revelation seemed to both soothe and enrage me.

"I—I'm Rin?" I said aloud, stunned. It sounded so _wrong_ (but I'm lying to myself).

_It's right._

"No, I'm Jenn," I said more firmly, voice remaining shaky. "I'm not… _Rin_." _Rin, Nohara Rin is _**_my _**_name_, I suddenly realized with horrifying clarity. That was worse than the psycho in my head. "I'm _Jenn_," I grit out through clenched teeth, louder.

**RIN,** he spat out the name like it was the most revolting thing he'd ever said.

I snapped.

"I. AM NOT. RIN!" I screamed, slamming a glowing red fist into the ground. It shattered under the force of the blow, and I recoiled. What else could I do but stare at it? Stare at it the same way I'd stared at myself? None of this was _me_.

Jenn wasn't thirteen years old and capable of wild feats, like healing with a touch and enhancing her muscles to the point where it appeared she was almost flying. Jenn didn't wake up in pools of blood surrounded by trees out of a Giger-ific nightmare, or with memories that weren't hers. Jenn didn't hear voices in her head. Jenn couldn't BREAK solid rock with her BARE FUCKING HANDS!

I did a double-take before confusedly tacking on _and I shouldn't glow red?_ Oh no, why was I glowing red?

A sudden, deep pain in my gut interrupted my pity party (likely the first of many to come). I coughed and gagged, lurching forward. I grasped at my stomach, trying to will away the burning roiling under the skin there. A small scream forced itself past my lips as I rolled on the ground in agony, trying to string enough coherent thoughts together to figure out what was happening to me now.

**I warned you!**

"No more," I gasped, scratching at my belly, "I don't… want… to die… AGAIN!" I shot upwards in a howl, nails ripping through the stiff fabric of my shirt. I felt hot liquid stain my fingertips and smear across my palms and belly. It only made the burn that much more intense across my abdomen. Had I scratched so hard that I'd made myself bleed?

**I NEVER WANTED TO BE SEALED! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I WON'T LET YOU KILL ME!**

I looked down to see black and red. My hands dripped black fluid, its smell reminding me distantly of ink. The red. Oh god, the red…! It boiled up from my belly, bubbling and foul. Could this horrible thing possibly be chakra? It crept along my body, up my chest, and oozed in small amounts from my arms and left hand. My right was completely encased in it. I felt it burst from my back in a spectacular wave of fiery pain. Errant tears leaked from the corners of my eyes as I struggled to tamp down whatever this was—

In another striking moment of clarity, through my skin burning and peeling away under the full moon, I understood what was happening. I remembered the Pein Invasion Arc. I remembered Naruto and his jinchūriki forms. A spiky phantom tail, blazing red and translucent, swept out from under me, and I began to scream without restraint.

I was going to die within the first hour of my new life.


	3. Of Control

**Starting Out at Six Feet Under**

**Of Control**

* * *

><p>"<em>I will not live much longer…"<em>

_Why did you have to die? Why did you leave me in this hell?_

Alone in his dark prison, with chakra compressed so densely it actually altered his size, chained and near helpless, the Sanbi despaired. The stone dome encapsulating him occasionally pulsed with faint blue light, cutting through the black at random intervals when his struggles became too powerful for the seals upon seals to ignore.

The chakra-reinforced chains rattled and groaned as the would-be leviathan thrashed against them, tempestuous waves battering the weathered rock and splashing over into the smaller portion of the circular chamber. A worn, blood and ink-stained slab with manacles adorning its four corners sat at the center, the place where they would seal him once again.

Into a prison worse than the one that held him now.

Water and foam rained down on him when he gave a spectacularly violent heave. Debris clattered down from the ceiling, bouncing off of him. A crack splintered the wall, subsequently destroying a layer of fūinjutsu. A set of chains went slack, and his tails wreaked spiteful havoc, slamming against the dome, pushing the seals binding him to their very limits. It _hurt_, hurt like lightning and Kurama-onii-sama's furious chakra every time a part of him touched them, but he didn't _care_. _Break, damn you, break! LET ME OUT!_

The dome shuddered, the water boiled. The Sanbi imagined the outside.

_Soon, soon._

Did they think the water would soothe him? It depressed him, made his insides ache nearly enough to curl into his shell and try to forget the world. It reminded him of the ocean he would never see again. They would come soon. It was nearly time, he felt deep in the soul they didn't believe he possessed. They always came.

"…_Isobu…"_

He remembered the way Father had said his name so clearly. He treasured it dearly, and guarded it like the well-kept secret it was. It had been his only comfort in the long years the disgusting humans had confined him, the thoughts of Father; his warmth and his smile. Father would never have used him in such a way, treated him like a rabid animal, a _weapon_ kept sheathed until bloody war came calling again.

"_Even if you are far apart, you will always be together."_

That was a lie, though! All of his siblings had abandoned each other, even fought to test their strength! It was wrong! Father never meant for that!

Isobu pulled harder, spiked tails lashing out over and over, causing irreparable damage. The chains were pulled as taut as they could go, the dome fiercely bright, as brilliant as the sun reflecting off the ocean—so bright he had to shut his one good eye—as all the seals activated at once in an attempt to keep him from freedom.

He used all of his willpower. _A little more, just a little more…!_

A noise; a piercing screech that skewered straight through his consciousness, obliterating his concentration, then: heaviness, pain. Isobu was smaller again. The chains tightened, the seals faded, the light following them leaving him in unending blackness.

Another failure.

He roared in pure fury, the sound unlike anything meant to be heard by human ears. The tail-end of his scream gave way to frustrated sobs as he wailed in the darkness. Did they mean to frighten him with it, he dimly wondered. It wouldn't work. The darkness was reminiscent of the deepest trenches of the ocean, so deep and so dark, lit only by bioluminescent creatures that humans had no names for, yet. No human or any of his brother or sisters could have braved it. Isobu missed it so much.

Why had he come to the surface again?

(_Loneliness._)

"_There will come a time when you will be united again, each of you with a unique name and a different form than before."_

Isobu didn't want a different name or a different form. These were his last remnants of Father. Would they ever be together again? He doubted they would. Had Father lied? The mere concept of it broke his heart.

A small door opposite of him burst open, a sliver of torchlight with it. "Mizukage-sama!" a breathless human exclaimed, "we can't afford to wait any longer! The seals are at their limits; it's only a matter of time before the Sanbi breaks free!"

So he had been close. The way Isobu was strung up now rendered it impossible for him to retreat into his shell. His three tails remained wrapped in chains, tighter than before, restricting any movement. It shamed him that he couldn't bring them forward to wrap around his face, however much his jaw and crown hid it.

He didn't want them to see his tears.

"I understand, begin the preparations," the Third Mizukage ordered imperiously, leading his elite ANBU and fūinjutsu specialists into the cave, blue hair and lengthy robes flowing behind him. He studied the Sanbi with calculating eyes and smiled, all malice and sharp, pointed teeth. "I sincerely hope you enjoy your play-time. You've been so rowdy lately."

Ah, right, humans didn't believe in such a thing. Bijū, chakra monsters, can't cry.

A masked man entered with an unconscious female slung over his shoulder, flanked by a set of elderly men. The rest of the Kiri-ANBU followed. All carrying torches, they formed a circle around the stone slab. The man laid her down none too gently on the slab, and bound her wrists and ankles for good measure. Her clothes were opened and thrown carelessly aside, the underside of her small breasts to her pubic bone bared.

She almost looked a sacrifice, thought Isobu. Pity he knew she wasn't. So this was to be his container, this little human, this tiny scrap of a girl? She didn't wear the symbol of his hated Kirigakure. Who was this kunoichi then? What was the purpose of this jailer? Surely they didn't mean to give away what they considered to be their most powerful weapon…?

The seal masters came forward, brandishing brushes and ink, and began their meticulous work, first drawing the perimeter of the seal around the stone, then up it, and finally, on her.

The process was long and arduous with Isobu straining his prison all the while. The ground trembled, the air burned thick with demonic chakra, and the small lake of water housing him was flung back and forth in tumultuous waves. Some of the ANBU aiding in the sealing abandoned their task to redirect the water. Isobu knew the ritual couldn't be interrupted now, and he was going to try his damnedest to try just that.

After they painted on her belly and up her ribs, the slow brushes of ink came to a stop. The girl's entire torso was covered. It would shrink upon completion, the bijū knew. The actual seal itself—the part that would be visible—was circular in shape, branching outwards in a way that vaguely reminded him of the Four Symbols Seal, but the sharp, contrasting lines threaded throughout the spiral pattern were not familiar.

Isobu didn't recognize it, and that alarmed him, spurring him to fight for all he was worth. The floor shook, the earth rising and falling in great chunks. The rest of the ANBU threw down their torches and used doton jutsu to stabilize the surrounding area. The Mizukage stood in front of him impassively, watching the spectacle as if it were nothing.

The chains anchored by rings drilled into Isobu's shell finally snapped, continuous loud pings filling the cavern as each one severed. The binding seals overloaded and released with a blinding flash. Walls shattered, and the ceiling splintered and crumbled.

Freedom at hand, Isobu fought to untangle himself from the mess of broken chakra chains as his own chakra expanded. He grew larger with each passing second. The dome would be unable to contain him in less than a minute.

"Mizukage-sama, you must do it now or we fail!" one of the elderly men cried out, keeping his work in tact the best he could manage. The girl stirred beneath them, head lolling to the side.

The Mizukage smiled again, eyes glinting with madness. "Too slow, idiot demon. Give Konoha my regards."

_SEAL!_

**NO!**

Everything _warped_. Lines of black similar to a summoning jutsu exploded from all across Isobu's now massive body, soaring through the air to connect to the sealing circle around his new vessel. The central seal on the young kunoichi's abdomen began to pulse rapidly, the trails of ink extending around her flaring to life as they shot upwards and inwards along with the bijū's chakra, speeding over her skin in swirls of black and bubbling red.

Isobu howled in outrage and infinite hatred as his physical body broke down and dissolved, being pulled into the seal no matter how hard he fought against it. A supernatural wind ravaged the dome as he roared. His previous chains had merely been a precursor to _this_.

Even on some other level of consciousness, the girl felt what was happening to her, the pain of becoming a jinchūriki immeasurable. Her eyes shot open, the whites a circular pattern of red and the irises neon yellow, pupils gone to slits as her body heaved violently. She appeared a horrific wraith with lines of seals and demonic chakra swirling around her like a raging tornado. The manacles holding her melted as she screamed in tandem with the beast, so loud and otherworldly that it gave both the retreating ANBU and Mizukage pause. Flecks of blood splattered her lips. She didn't stop screaming even when Isobu's fearsome roar could no longer be heard.

"_And unlike when you were inside me, you will be guided down the right path. I hope you learn what true strength is."_

What had his father meant when he said that? Which was the right path? Where could he find it? How could he find it trapped inside the body of an uncaring, hateful human? _What is true strength?_ How could he learn when humans used him like this without rest or fail?

Isobu's hold on reality faltered as he became fully incorporeal. He slipped from the plane of the living, a metaphysical titan of chakra not meant to be trapped inside a human. Images of the stone prison flashed before him, then black squiggling lines pulsating with chakra like a beating heart, and then nothing at all as he fell deeper, deeper than any ocean trench on the planet could offer him.

"_Until that time…"_

* * *

><p><strong>三<strong>

* * *

><p>I would like to say my experience as a jinchūriki made my predicament all the more surreal, but I would very sadly be lying. If anything, it eventually hammered home the fact that <em>this<em> was all too _real_.

_It hurts so much, why is this happening to me, oh my god, someone please help, someone save me—NO, STOP, IT'S TOO PAINFUL, HELPMEHELPME NONONONO—_

**Nobody can save you now, little girl. Now give in to me.**

Unimaginable pain coursed through my body, centered in my belly where it pounded over and over, sending waves of malevolent chakra and, you guessed it, more mind-searing pain. Ink spilled onto my legs, staining my clothing and the ground, coming from my stomach, where I guessed my seal was. I bent double, forehead smeared into the dirt, pressing my hands to it, as though that would stop it from flowing out. Red froth poured forth with it, coating my body in its red shroud. The flesh there felt like it was twisting and contracting in some awful parody of birth.

In a moment of lucidity, I realized it was going to be. I was going to give birth to the monster inside me, never knowing which one it was, and die with its release.

I screamed louder than I thought was humanly possible, with force beyond measure, and felt my throat tear all the way up, blood flying from my mouth to drench my lips and chin. My right eye was closed and I couldn't open it!

_Control it._

Distantly, through my sheer terror and panic, I could hear his dark, pleased laughter. He reminded me of a spiteful child, gleefully and deliberately tearing the wings from a butterfly, watching it struggle and despair until becoming bored with it, and finally squishing it.

My first instinct was to _run_, just run as far the hell away as I could from this demonic mass of chakra. Gusts of unnatural hot air rocked the forest around me, the old tall trees close to snapping with the force of it. It came from me, the wind, every time I shrieked in pain and terror, releasing shockwaves of the hideous chakra that wasn't mine. The bubbling red oozed further along my body. I could feel it crawling up my neck, but I was too distraught to fight it. Watching with near fathomless horror as a strip of flesh peeled from my forearm with a sickening noise, I knew I couldn't.

I couldn't run from this as much as I couldn't run from myself. (_RinRinRin_.)

_Control it or die._

The strip of flesh hissed and crackled, then dissolved into the shroud of red surrounding my body. Blood dripped from the constantly forming wounds, and defying all gravity, floated around in miniature orbs. I used to think that looked so cool when it happened to Naruto. Goddamnit kid, I am _so_ _sorry_.

With another scream that levelled the trees around me and threw the river's water cascading into the forest, I rolled along the ground mindlessly clawing at myself in a futile attempt to rip the foul red from my body.

In my feverish thoughts, _something_ had to _work_. _Something_ had to rid me of it.

Skin came away with it, and I only screamed harder. Muscle didn't become visible when it should have, replaced with some terrible mixture of dense black and red chakra melded together in an ever-moving chaotic pattern. I struggled to breathe, choking on blood, far beyond anything that could be called hyperventilating. In my panic, the phantom tail smashed and scored the terrain around me, shattering trees like they were delicate playthings. This monstrous _thing_ was an extension of myself.

**Aren't you tired of the pain? **His voice took on an almost kind tone, gentle and coaxing. This guy could win mood-swings of the year award, no contest.

It became harder to think. A slow-building throb in my back had me instinctively knowing that a second tail would be sprouting soon. I could feel his influence on me grow stronger. Soon, I wouldn't be me.

**Let me take away your pain. It's easy, just let me out.**

I didn't know which bijū was inside of me, or if I was like Naruto. At what point would I lose who I was? What was the limit on my tails? There would be no Yamato or Tenzō—whatever his name was supposed to be—jumping out of the trees to save me. I highly doubted there was some kind of Fourth Hokage built into my seal to fix it when it weakened too much. I couldn't let the damned thing form!

A new wave of pain racked my body, sending me into spasms. Like an infected abscess, the chakra building in my back grew larger. It would burst and the second tail would be free. What could I do to stop it? What does someone like me know? I'm the person whose stupidity led to the circumstances of my first death!

He seemed to sense my self-doubt, that I was at the end of my proverbial rope. **It's over, little human. I'm winning.**

_You are an iryō-nin with excellent chakra control. This is merely another exercise in control. Control it or die._

"Control it or die," I repeated in a ragged whisper as my vision fogged out.

"_You control it or your patient dies!" Kotori-sensei barked, eyeing the decidedly dead trio of fish in front of us with obvious disdain. "Are you three really considered up and coming prodigies in the medical field with that kind of chakra control?"_

_I tried to fight the rising heat in my cheeks. We were failing hard, weren't we? Beside me, Shizune swallowed, but had the good sense not to look away. To her right, Hiro wasn't as smart. It was an unspoken rule not to break eye contact with Kotori-sensei; she took it as a weakness._

_We winced at the sound of him being smacked across the face with her paper fan. Initially, people laughed at the paper fan. Soon you came to fear it; that thing was usually loaded with enough fūton to send a man clear across Konoha…_

"_Repeat to me the Four Laws of Iryō-Ninjutsu," Kotori-sensei ordered, walking back and forth in measured steps in front of us, supremely unimpressed._

"_No iryō-nin shall ever stop medical treatment until the lives of their team members have come to an end," I said immediately, back straightening. She had to see I was one-hundred percent serious. Becoming a fully-fledged iryō-nin is the most important thing in the world to me._

"_N-no iryō-nin s-shall ever stand on the f-front lines," Hiro stammered, eyes darting back and forth in paranoia as he healed his reddened face._

_Shizune's stance straightened too as she spoke her part, "No iryō-nin shall ever die until they are the last of their squad." She said it so adamantly, and it was evident in her expression how much she too wanted this. I found Shizune incredibly impressive. If we weren't such great friends, we would probably be bitter rivals._

"_Only those iryō-nin who have mastered the Creation Rebirth and Strength of a Hundred Seal are permitted to discard the previous laws!" I exclaimed with a good deal of excitement, promptly blushing when I realized I had little fists clenched in front of me. Senju Tsunade is my idol and my dream is to be just like her, a person that can discard the first three rules! I never wanted to be the weak one, the targeted one, because of my iryō-ninjutsu. I wanted to be useful to my new team and sensei when I graduated, with the power to protect them and my precious people. And for that I would strive to learn the pinnacle of medical ninjutsu, maybe even from Tsunade-sama herself._

_As if she could read my thoughts, Shizune grinned at me. I knew it was her dream, too. Really, it was the dream of all little iryō-nin growing up to the awe-inspiring stories of the great Tsunade-sama. I'd absolutely be lying if I said I wasn't jealous of Shizune's ties with her._

"_So, we have some drive and commitment here after all!" Kotori-sensei commented dryly, smirking. "Kids, if you want to be like Tsunade-hime you're going to need far better control than what you displayed here."_

"_Yes!" We all saluted._

"_Back to the Mystical Palm jutsu, then. Where you're all going wrong is the amount of chakra you're sending into your subject. It needs to be equal, not just to the type of injury or the subject's structure, but the reserves of the subject. You can have the most powerful Mystical Palm in the world, one capable of healing your patient in seconds, but all it'll end up doing is killing them if what you send in doesn't match their reserves._

_"In the best case scenario, you'll overload their coils and end up severely damaging them. Worst case: destroying them, resulting in your patient's death. Mystical Palm isn't a magical heal-all. Do you understand?"_

"_Yes!" we chorused, taking our places in front of new, half-dead fish. I began again with my Mystical Palm, altering the amount of chakra I used and how much I was saturating it with, keeping it at pinpoint control the best I could manage. The dome of green given off by my hands surrounding the fish made it look otherwise, but I knew it would work _this _time. Failure wasn't an option. It wavered occasionally as my control slipped every now and again, and I had to rein it back in._

_Sweat beaded on my brow, a few drops falling down my face. Iryō-ninjutsu is highly intensive, and I wouldn't have it any other way. The fish twitched as I continued, not giving up. I pulled my chakra tighter, moulding it into a more precise form, making it smaller and stronger while channelling a continuous, tiny amount into the now weakly flopping animal. I couldn't use a burst here; bursts weren't effective in life-support treatment. Bursts were really more effective for... _killing_, but I refused to let the thought cloud my mind._

_The fish exploded with movement. _Yes! Yes! _I smiled as I stepped back for Kotori-sensei to examine it._

"_Not bad," she concluded, sounding surprised. Shizune's eyes quickly flitted to my fish, then back to hers in a fraction of a second. Ever the little professional, her concentration didn't falter._

_Unfortunately, Hiro's did. "Wow, Rin, that's amazing! Do you have any—"_

_Smack! Splash! Oh, not the fish-tank…_

_I cringed, Shizune huffed a small sigh._

_With a vein throbbing in her forehead, Kotori-sensei said, "I guess those guys at the hospital saw something in _some _of you." She levelled a glare at Hiro. "Keep that up, Rin-chan, and maybe you _will _grow up to be like Tsunade-hime."_

_I blushed and fidgeted for a moment before asking for my next exercise. Of course, Kotori-sensei was just teasing…_

_But still… maybe, maybe if I achieved my dream, something as impressive as that, Kakashi would notice me…_

Oh hell no, this Rin girl—that I am now, in case anyone missed it thus far—was in love with Naruto's perpetually late and awkward sensei? For the love of god, girlfriend! Sure, he can be a real badass at times, but I'm not seeing the attraction here, at all. Let us wave goodbye to that ship because it's sailing! Also, "Tsunade", her name is Tsunade, not Tsunana… Go me…

But I digress, by a lot; like I'm about to die and still making sarcastic comments 'a lot'.

"_Do you understand?"_ The words echoed in my ears.

"Yes," I whispered, blinking as my vision came back clearer. The world seemed to calm down around me. I began to mould chakra in my core and hoped my theory would work. _I_ couldn't do this, didn't understand how to do this, but Rin _did_, so _I_ would be _Rin_.

**What? **he asked, startled. The son of a bitch knew I had been about to give in. Oh no no no, I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction.

"I'm Rin, and she understands," I croaked, forcing myself to my knees. The gale-force winds were dying down, the tail that had been flailing around wildly lying limp. The pain associated with the second tail forming lessened. This was just another exercise in chakra control and Rin was a master at those.

Now Rin/Jenn, you're saying, he's a bijū—albeit a sealed one—and you're a kid with hardly any chakra left, how is that going to work?

It was like playing with my soul. The sounds of the physical world dulled as I moulded the two energies inside me. One was far stronger than the other (I would need to remedy that at some point), which made it more difficult to maintain the balance but I—no, Rin—made do. The tight, dense ball of energy swirling in my center grew stronger, hotter. It became harder to keep its shape. I could feel myself frown, a droplet of sweat falling from my temple, but I persevered.

**Y-you—you think MEDITATION can save you?! You foolish human!**

His annoying voice ruined my focus; the energy inside me fractured, but didn't dissipate. I fought to keep it whole until it was complete. I had to build as much chakra inside of me as I could. It was the same principle as the fish test, but I _would_ use a burst at the end after suffusing my entire body in my own chakra to force his away. I would force it back into the seal!

"I'm not going to die! You are not coming out!" I snarled.

I heard him laughing again, and got an incredible surge of cynicism through my mind.

**Such a pathetic sentiment,** he said condescendingly. **How can you hope to stop me?**

"L-like this, you arrogant prick!" I clapped my hands together, releasing the frankly surprising amount of perfectly balanced chakra from my core, sending it out in precise waves throughout my limbs—

_Pathway system. Coils. Tenketsu points._

—I couldn't waste it all at once or my technique would fail. The red chakra enveloping me began to clash with currents of visible blue as I channelled it throughout my body. It was the same concept for the Mystical Palm, but what I was applying wasn't exactly iryō-ninjutsu.

_Yin. Yang._

It was his turn to panic.

**N-no, what are you doing? How are you d-doing that?!**

He wasn't in control anymore. I was, though I was panting and struggling to keep up the pace I set. Regardless, it appeared to be working. The red-black chakra disappeared, scorched skin and muscle taking its place. I tried hard not to think about that.

The boiling red slowly but surely receded as I sat there glowing odd shades of colours. The sensation of liquid dripping down my belly stopped, the odd pulsating with it. If anything, it felt like I was actually pushing the demonic chakra back inside of it. Briefly, I wondered if that was a good thing. Couldn't he use what I was giving back to him to try breaking free again? I didn't want to go through that insanity any time soon.

**You deserve it for trying to kill me, you stupid… s-stupid…**

My chakra was at a higher ratio to his now. My sight greyed a bit as I pushed myself farther. I had a sinking feeling I was going to kill myself if I kept this up, but I could not under any circumstances let him win. Unbelievably enough, I mustered the strength to say, "H-huh, n-not… willing to… c-call muh-me… a bitch?" I could feel his hesitation.

**You—**

Do you know what you do to do with a brat who doesn't know when to stop talking? You shut him up.

With a final push, I let the burst shock my body. I fell face-first onto the ground, gasping for breath. The tail faded away with the last of the red shroud, and with it, his voice, thank the deities that be.

I probably lay there unable to move for a few minutes, I think. Even though I'd survived, I felt like I'd betrayed myself. I willingly let myself become Rin. The thought that I'd done it to live was hardly comforting. Was I going to let Jenn disappear so easily?

You know what, I don't want to think about this. Screw it all, I'm gone!

Forcing myself to my feet, stumbling back and forth and shaking, I made my way to the river. I swallowed a lump in my torn apart throat and tentatively placed a foot on it. To my relief, I didn't fall in, but it wasn't a smooth ride over—it was more like I was walking across jello as my chakra was weak and unstable from overuse. I guess it was a little stupid to be surprised that I could water-walk without any issues considering I'm/Rin is a skilled iryō-nin and able to suppress a bijū with an idea based on keeping a fish alive…

* * *

><p><strong>三<strong>

* * *

><p>What lay beyond the break in the forest: more forest! <em>Greeeat.<em> I wasn't sure how long I'd been walking for anymore.

"Left foot," I said hollowly, sounding like I was about to keel over and die, while placing my left foot ahead. "Right foot." I repeated the same with my right foot. I went on like this, knowing I couldn't stop. If I did, someone would find me. It took all of my strength to keep moving, of which there wasn't much left. My breathing sounded like a death rattle.

My bijū might get his wish after all. It's all I've ever been good at really, failing. I thought I did so great overcoming the demonic chakra and holding the beast at bay, yet here I am, about to die and let him out anyway. Seems my best is never enough. It was like that in my old life, too.

My old life… is that really how I'm thinking now?

Who am I? Jennifer Ryder? Nohara Rin? Who am I now?

"Left foot."

"_Jenn, Claire, what on earth are you two doing?" Mom asks however many years ago, very obviously trying not to face-palm, but I can hear the smile in her voice. I'm surprised she's supported me this long, being so sick and whatnot._

"_Trying to water-walk and perform Water Release jutsu," Claire responds without a care in the world. She shuts her eyes tightly for a moment then tries to step out onto the pool. She falls in, of course. She mutters something about getting it right next time._

"_I'm swimming," I say, resisting the urge to drown myself._

"_Not interested in learning Water Release?" Mom quips, and I mouth 'oh my lord' and bury my face in my hands. She leaves laughing. "Love you too!"_

My eyes could hardly focus. The trees were blurs of green and brown as I forced myself to go forward. I couldn't go back. There was no going back for me.

"Right foot."

"_Dad, my computer is _wrecked_," I tell him, almost awestruck at the sheer carnage the internet has inflicted upon it._

"_Oh for shit's sake, Jenn, why are you always so negative? That kind of thing won't help you in life," he yells while coming up the stairs. He's a computer genius. I envy him for it. No matter how much I try to learn, I just can't seem to do what he does. He sits down at my desk and starts opening and scrolling through god-knows-what. "Holy living fuck, kid! What did you do to this thing?"_

_If there's one thing Dad can teach me, it's how to swear like a sailor._

_I try to hide my grin at his hilarious language. "Probably from porn," I say nonchalantly. Naturally I'm joking, and he knows that. I would never admit something like that to him for real._

_He gives me a dead stare and points at his shirt. It reads "FML". I burst into fits of laughter and he gives me a shit-eating grin. He acts like a tough old bastard, but he never means it._

_He loves me, even though I'm sick all the time._

"Left foot," I repeated, voice cracking. A tear slid down my cheek.

"_Rin, you want to become a kunoichi just like me, right?" Kā-san asks encouragingly, smoothing her strong hands over my tiny shoulders. The purple marks on her cheeks stretch as she smiles. She's trying to teach me proper calligraphy because my strokes aren't good enough yet. The last explosive note we made together didn't work right—there was smoke everywhere—and it had made Otō-san very angry. I'm still not sure why._

"_Yes!" I nod eagerly. Kā-san is the best shinobi I've ever seen, and I want to be just like her. Before she got hurt, they called her Storm Caller._

"_We'll rain down lightning together, right?" Kā-san asks rhetorically with a large mischievous grin, tucking a long strand of burgundy hair behind her ear. Kā-san's hair is so pretty. Sometimes I wish mine looked like hers so the big rectangles on my face would match, just like hers._

_I want to be an awesome kunoichi like Kā-san! I think about it a lot. I don't really know if I want to be an iryō-nin like Otō-san keeps suggesting, but… if I learn iryō-ninjutsu, then I can keep my precious people safe, right?_

"Right foot." That woman's not the mother I know, but some part of me loved her anyway. My foot got caught on a root and I nearly fell, grappling for a tree or low branch for support. It was getting harder to keep going, but I couldn't go back anymore.

"_Rin! Where do you think you're going?" Otō-san barks from behind the counter._

_I freeze and try not to cringe at being caught. The displeasure in his voice is apparent. I'm not sure I believe him when he says he's always been a baker. "To study," I reply evenly._

"_You can study here," he says, frowning. "Don't even try to tell me you're going to the hospital; I know for a fact your sensei there has the day off. You're going to the training fields, aren't you? Rin, you know how I feel about that."_

_"Otō-san," I begin, frustrated, "I'm weak." It stings to admit. "My taijutsu and shurikenjutsu aren't up to par. Everyone else can beat me so easily, it's pathetic. How am I ever going to get better if you forbid me from training?"_

"_I won't see you get hurt as long as I'm alive," Otō-san says with knotted eyebrows._

_Not this again! I'm so sick of it!_

"_A weak medic is the worst kind! I'll die on the battlefield," I snap, whirling around to face him. "I can have better iryō-ninjutsu than Tsunade-sama and still be the biggest liability! I don't want to be a burden to my team!"_

"_Which is why it's better if you quit! I watched all of my brothers die and nearly lost your mother!" His tone changes and his voice becomes louder._

_This sobers me up somewhat. "Otō-san, I understand, I really do," I begin, because I_ do _understand_._ I don't say that I've watched people die, that some have died under _my_ hands. There's not enough iryō-nin to save them all. My hands clench into white-knuckled fists, nails digging into my palms so hard they're probably bleeding, but I don't care. If I can make a difference, I absolutely will. "I'm going to graduate this year and make genin! It's been my goal since I was a little girl. I want to become an iryō-nin so I can save fellow shinobi! Besides," I wipe away the tears that fall from my determined eyes as quickly as I can, "you were the one to suggest iryō-ninjutsu. Why did you if you never wanted me to become shinobi?"_

_His face falls and he looks stricken. Like my tears are physical blows. "I thought you could work in the hospital. I never thought you would try for combat medic. It was the best compromise I could think of."_

"Left foot," I whispered, staggering. You should have listened to him, Rin. Look at where we are now. Inherited hands that fail and kill—I can't,_ I_ _can't_—

_Where am I going? I can't go back anymore._

"M-miss?"

My head snapped up from looking at my feet—so I wouldn't fall down; in retrospect a totally awful thing for a shinobi on the run to be doing—bracing myself with one hand against a tree-trunk. The other hovered around my weapon holster.

In front of me stood a chubby, older man brandishing a kama. He seemed torn between being concerned for me and afraid of me. The kama trembled in his grip as he held it up defensively, because I'm totally in top-shape to attack. I mean, can't you tell by looking at me? Ripped up clothes, completely dazed expression, covered in blood and dirt and more fucked up wounds than skin… I let my hand drop. This guy wasn't a threat in the slightest, not even in my condition. I'm not about to kill a farmer. (_I'm not about to kill __**anyone**__._)

"Hi," I said, the word barely recognizable with how damaged my vocal chords were.

He was flabbergasted. He opened and closed his mouth, gaping like a fish. We just stood there, about ten feet apart, staring at each other for different reasons.

"So, uh," I tried clearing my throat or something to that effect. It didn't sound like any 'ahem' I'd ever heard in my life. I wondered if I would ever sound like the Rin from my memories again, or if I'd left the injury too long untreated. It seemed to horrify the man. "Can I go?"

His jaw dropped and he became even more confused by me. "Can you go?" he echoed, shocked. Were the shinobi from this area assholes or something? Why was my being polite surprising?

"Miss, do you need help?"

"Oh," I said, weakly gesturing at my battered, blood-covered form. Then I said the most stupid and embarrassing thing ever. I swear to god saying it seemed like a normal idea at the time. "This? Don't worry; I'm just… on my… period…" I trailed off, swaying, as my eyes started to roll up into the back of my head.

I've never blacked out before. Is this what it's like to black ou—

* * *

><p><strong>三<strong>

* * *

><p>When Juri had said she heard someone stalking about out in the woods behind his farm, Kenta had been skeptical. Nobody came this far out anymore, not even any shinobi—Konoha-nin or otherwise, unless he paid them. There hadn't been a raid since the end of the Third Shinobi World War.<p>

Imagine his surprise when he found out that there was indeed someone out back in the woods, a young girl no less. Her chest heaved with rattling breaths that seemed hard to take, and she looked like she'd just walked out of Hell itself, covered in injuries the likes of which he'd never seen before. Nervously he wondered if there had been some kind of battle nearby. He hadn't heard anything, nor any of his neighbours and Juri was always quick to inform him of those kinds of going-on's.

She didn't seem to notice him, taking careful, dragging steps forward. She could hardly lift her feet. Still, something in Kenta's gut told him to be on guard. No one came out of a battle looking like that not having done any of the fighting. She didn't have a hitai-ate declaring her allegiance, but he noted her pouches and holster. This was no ordinary teenage girl.

Damn, but she looked like she really needed help. Should he help her or run back the way he'd come fast as his legs could carry him? What good ever came from shinobi these days?

She kept coming forward, staring solidly at the ground, stringy blood-matted hair that might've once been pretty framing her face like a grotesque curtain. Kenta wanted to turn tail and run, but it was her eyes that stopped him. In them he saw the horrors that the war had wrought. He saw helplessness and her acceptance of death. This girl was too young to know such things. It also helped that Kenta heavily believed in karma.

Heaving a mental sigh, he stepped in front of her, holding his kama up like it might protect him should she choose to attack. He swallowed and said, "M-miss?"

Her head shot up faster than Kenta thought possible, eyes wide in alarm. Her hand darted to one of the pouches but paused. She reached out to lean against a tree. She studied him for a moment with those bulging, unblinking eyes filled with something that made him entirely uncomfortable.

"Hi," she greeted quietly, dropping her hand away from her presumed-weapons. Her voice sounded like she'd gargled glass and ashes.

Kami-sama, what _had_ happened to this girl? He took in her appearance in growing horror.

"So, uh," she said when he couldn't find words, and made some hideously painful noise with her throat. She winced a little when she did it. It seemed to surprise her as well. "Can I go?" she asked in a small, brittle voice.

"Can you go?" Kenta repeated, stunned. Where could she possibly go looking like she was on death's door? Maybe she wasn't a shinobi; shinobi didn't ask for anything, they just took it—or so was Kenta's experience. "Miss, do you need help?" he asked her in disbelief, putting emphasis on 'help'.

"Oh, this?" She waved her arm limply. "I'm just—" she mumbled nearly unintelligibly, swaying, "I'm just on… my period…" Then she fainted dead away.

Kenta stared wide-eyed at her prone body as the dust settled around it.

"She's on her period," the farmer said out loud to himself blankly. Now, Kenta was a man and didn't know much about a woman's monthlies, but he'd had a wife for a good twenty years and knew it didn't encompass being covered head to toe in blood.

Against his will, he gave a dry laugh. At least she had a sense of humour.

Kenta approached the girl and checked her pulse, glad to feel it steady under his fingertips. He sheathed his kama and picked the girl up.

Juri was going to lose it when she saw _this_.

* * *

><p><strong>三<strong>

* * *

><p>Guruguru rose from the ground, stopping at chest-level when he saw the scenery.<p>

"Oh my," he said aloud, head sweeping from left to right. The trees were either bent backwards or destroyed entirely. The river had large gouges in it, as though some sort of massive creature had buried its claws into the sides. The rest of the terrain fared no better, ultimately in ruins. Nothing had been spared the destruction here.

The residual chakra made his insides squirm. It was terrible. It was almost familiar. Just what'd happened here?

What made marks like these, he asked himself, fully materializing from the ground. No animal he knew of could create patterns like these. Using his roots to send the information back through his clone brothers, he reached out for Rin's chakra. She'd been here at one point, then presumably an encounter of either creature or human had forced her to leave. It was worrisome that he couldn't feel her chakra anymore.

Had Rin survived Kakashi's Chidori only to die here? That would be extremely unfortunate for all of them. If he went past this point, he would be unable to communicate with the clones. Their net stretched only so far from the Mountains' Graveyard.

_Bijū chakra?_ one of the closer Zetsu sent back, clearly surprised.

_What, really?_

_That's all I can think of… It feels much the way Madara described it._

"Curiouser and curiouser," Guruguru mused. Now he _had_ go past the perimeter. He _needed_ to know what had happened to Rin. If there was actually a bijū roaming around, he would have felt it without a doubt. Which meant one thing: there was a jinchūriki somewhere nearby.

Was _Rin_ herself the jinchūriki? This was way better than the crappy television they leeched off of Takigakure!

(In hindsight, he_ really_ should've paused to think about that a little more.)

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Inspector Zetsu/Guruguru! Why does he know that phrase? Shh, don't kill me. In ways lots of things happened in this chapter and in ways not so much. Rin did make it out of the forest, though! I suppose I'm writing it this way as most OC-inserted-into-so-and-so are usually totally chill with what happens to them.

Hopefully the bijū sealing ritual and the way Rin got out of being overtaken by Isobu weren't totally out there and somewhat believable. We don't know too much about different seals for jinchūriki, so I'm making it up as I go. Yes, Isobu knows of the Four Symbols Seal. Make of that what you will.

Edit for clarity: Rin used her own chakra and will to counteract Isobu's. I hope the rewrite makes it more clear. She did not use any fūinjutsu, nor did she use Yin-Yang Release.

All feedback is appreciated. What am I doing right? What am I doing wrong? What would you like to see more of? As always, reviews are love! Concrit is love. I welcome it.


	4. Clouds Gather

**Beta: **CompYES, BirdBoss (cowriter of some scenes)

* * *

><p><strong>Starting Out at Six Feet Under<strong>

**Clouds Gather**

* * *

><p><em>Fate is cruel, Madara knows this.<em>

_He has also learnt over the years that good things come to those who wait. It is almost too perfect when the Zetsu tell him of an Uchiha boy left to die in one of the old, far reaching tunnels connected to the Mountains' Graveyard. _

"_He's still alive," they announce, and Madara merely cocks an eyebrow at them—a silent command. The clones grin like they've just been given a new toy and do as he wills. _

_The boy is close to death when the Zetsu return with him. There is no time wasted in surgically carving the crushed half of his body off and painstakingly grafting synthetic tissue to replace it. The pungent tang of blood fills the air, iron and familiar. Madara splits ruined muscle and bone under his skilled, aged hands. His young acquisition is semi-conscious through the procedure, howling and spitting up blood as Hashirama's clone's flesh is forced to adapt to its new host. He doesn't stop crying out for 'Rin', sometimes 'Kakashi'._

_Madara is briefly annoyed at this weakness. It doesn't matter—they will be used judiciously to stoke the flames of the Curse of Hatred, he thinks. _

_At the end of a bout of agonized screaming—when the boy is exhausted and wholly delirious—Madara turns his head towards him and looks into the dazed, unfocused Sharingan rolling in its socket. The elder Uchiha's Sharingan pulses once. He says, "Show me," and the images he sees are vivid. _

_The Clan is ashamed of this boy, considering him a nuisance and a failure; an orphan not worth looking twice at. He is ignored no matter how loud he yells. The truly sincere and absolutely naïve kindness he shows is met with superficial smiles. He is constantly brushed off, pushed away. Those who cast him a second glance can be counted on one hand, and even then, one of them regards him with such scorn. (Ah, but this Kakashi that he calls for gives him recognition in the end; too little, too late.) _

_And there is the girl, Rin, who has looked at him kindly, encouraged him, praised him. She truly believes in him. She is the shining sun in his mind—though it is very clear to Madara that she is looking at someone else. The boy loves her so fiercely, so deeply: she is the thing he cares about most in this world. _

…_She would be so easy to snuff out._

_Uchiha Obito is the perfect pawn. _

_Fate is kind. _

_Madara's lone Sharingan glitters in the darkness. Irony does not taste bitter to him anymore._

* * *

><p><strong>三<strong>

* * *

><p>Guruguru materialized from the dirt in a minute ripple. Dust shifted ever so slightly around him. <em>What a complete dump,<em> Guruguru thought as he analyzed his surroundings. The few buildings that stood in the sparse area were in patchwork shambles, all old rickety rooftops and rotting wood. A streak of telltale shuriken marks and the colour of rust ran across the battered farmhouse's doorway.

Finally, _finally_ Guruguru had located Rin at a small farm in the middle of nowhere. That was, in no way, an exaggeration. This truly was the middle-of-freaking-nowhere. Guruguru couldn't even recall this area of Fire Country having a name on any map, though it might've been south of Midorikawa. Maybe this was Midorikawa? Inconsequential at the moment. He logged it away for later. Rin was here. For a human recovering from a gaping hole in her chest, she'd covered a surprising amount of ground.

Without the clone network, it'd made Guruguru's search exponentially harder, and more than once he'd thought the girl to be dead. Her chakra signature disappeared altogether at some points. Guruguru's initial belief that she could potentially be a jinchūriki was shaky at best now—and as he thought about it, a damn good thing. How screwed would they be if she ended up being one? Obito would never consider killing Rin, and that alone would derail Tsuki no Me for as long as it would take Madara to deal with the fallout and find a new protégé—puppet, really, but Guruguru liked Obito enough not to label him as such.

Guruguru had no doubt there was a jinchūriki in the vicinity, but _Rin_? Her chakra signature wasn't giving off that unnerving, hate-filled aura he'd felt before, but it was very… _strange_. Massively unbalanced, even. Whatever Kirigakure had done to the kunoichi had set her Yin chakra so far off it was leaving an imprint powerful enough for others—non-sensor-nin—to feel. Rin didn't feel like the Rin Obito had attempted to rescue hours earlier. Guruguru might have gone as far as to say he wouldn't have recognized her at all if he hadn't felt her normal chakra signature prior.

It vibrated, maintaining a soft constant buzz when she wasn't controlling it, indicative of a lightning affinity. It lined up with Obito's angry rants about Rin wanting to train elemental ninjutsu more with Bakashi than himself because they shared the same affinity and blah, blah, zone out. The complexities of human relationships were _too_ weird.

_Hmm, hmm, what happened to you, Rin?_ the clone wondered. Body modification, kekkei genkai activation, fūinjutsu experiments, the possibilities were endless! Yes, Madara would be a little upset (a terrifying understatement) that they'd brought in an unknown variable… _if_ he found out. Telling him didn't suit their purpose, yet. Not that it mattered when he was about to pass Obito the torch anyway. If everything went their way, the gains that could be made from Rin's unusual ability were _high_. Her heart had been burnt out of her chest and she'd _lived_. How could anyone resist taking advantage of something of that nature?

Rin would need to prove that she was interested in Infinite Tsukuyomi, of course, and more importantly, exceedingly loyal. If she wasn't, what Obito didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Naturally, the Moon's Eye plan trumped their friend's love, though the Zetsu would feel guilty. Somewhat guilty. A tad guilty?

…Or maybe not at all.

What did guilt feel like again? Shouldn't he have felt guilty sneaking around Madara? It didn't seem like an emotion worth having. Besides, sneaking around Madara was fun, danger and all—it was only monumentally stupid if you got caught, and—

_No, stop._ He needed to get back on track.

_Time to get started. _Why was Rin here of all places? Plausible thoughts that came to mind were that she'd sought refuge here or had been brought not of her own will. How odd, though. Why hadn't she tried to go back to Konoha? This was far too southwest of Konoha, and too deliberate. It appeared she'd barely made an effort to go home.

Suspicious.

Rising fully out of the dirt, Guruguru strolled towards the small farmhouse sitting innocently on the edge of the forest. There were two people inside, one Rin, the other a civilian if their chakra was anything to go by. Well, that person needed to die soon—

Guruguru froze mid-stride, spines constricting involuntarily as it hit him, sudden and choking. Malevolent chakra billowed out from the house like an invisible, noxious smoke, each wave stronger than the last. He didn't need to breathe, at least not in the conventional sense, so he imagined this must be what humans felt as they drowned: desperately gasping for air they couldn't reach as they were pulled deeper and darker, _lost, swallowed up, death inevitable, panic PANIC __**DYING**_.

The clone shuddered and pulled himself together. That was one human curiosity sated, and not one he would be revisiting any time in the near future.

So _this_ was the killing intent of a bijū. It certainly lived up to its reputation. Madara would be pleased that they'd identified and confirmed… another… _jinch__ū__riki_.

Oh, no.

_Rin._

Guruguru wished he had hair to pull on. No, no, not Rin! Why Rin?! Her chakra hadn't been doing this a few minutes earlier! There hadn't been any indication of this at all! No, this wasn't how the situation was supposed to unfold, not at all, not anymore! She wasn't actually supposed to end up being the jinchūriki! This was the worst case scenario!

Did Madara know about this? Why wouldn't he have told them because—seriously, Obito would never ever, not in a million years—

Then, Guruguru felt it; the deep pull in his chest that signified his master's calling. And he couldn't deny it, had to obey it.

"Uh oh," he cringed helplessly.

It was at this point, Guruguru realized they were in some _seriously_ deep shit.

(And Madara be damned, the pun would've been funny if not for the circumstances.)

* * *

><p><strong>三<strong>

* * *

><p>If White Zetsu didn't deserve a gold star for his poker face, then Hashirama wasn't the First Hokage, simple as that.<p>

Zetsu had been thankful when hours passed with the two Uchiha remaining inside Madara's genjutsu because _Guruguru_—stupid, _stupid_, (clone) brother—had made the executive decision to go beyond his network. Rin could be a useful resource for certain, but currently she wasn't worth Madara's disappointment.

Now Zetsu was working blind, as it were, while Madara taught Obito presumably the rest of what he hadn't learned inside the elder Uchiha's genjutsu—_this_ Zetsu was very interested in, as the passage of time could be thoroughly negated within a skilled user's genjutsu. The change was obvious, from the way Obito carried himself to the resolute coldness evident in his expression. This wasn't the same boy that had returned to them with grief-filled determination. Obito had come out of Madara's genjutsu a different person. At last, the Moon's Eye Plan could begin in earnest with Madara's successor chosen and willing.

Zetsu would've been pleased with this turn of events, if not for his errant brother, the idiot that should've returned _hours_ ago. It wasn't as if their idea was a difficult one to execute, and leave be for a short time (or terminate, depending on her choice, but he'd left that up to Guruguru's discretion). It begged the question of what'd happened to him, and to Rin.

"Zetsu, come." Madara's command echoed throughout the airy cavern, snapping him out of his worried thoughts. Something about his master's tone was _off_, and the way his single eye was fixed on him reminded Zetsu of a hawk intently watching its prey.

_He knows._ Ice slithered down his spine.

The clone hesitated for a moment, then steeled his nerves and emerged from the wall he'd been observing from, dropping to the ground soundlessly. He resisted the urge to swallow the nonexistent lump in his throat.

As Zetsu closed the gap between them, seamlessly casual and obedient, he came to the realization that he was nervous… he was afraid of Madara. _He_ was the _original_, not as expendable as the others, he told himself. Madara's cruelty was born out of necessity; he wouldn't… wouldn't actually…

Madara's hand, charged with an unrelenting, powerful chakra, made contact with the rounded stump of his shoulder, and _everything __**changed**_. A foreign force—foreign _**life**_—pushed itself into his body, _**invaded**_ him, and he was left momentarily grasping for the pieces that were White Zetsu. And he could _see_ it too, the growing black spreading into and onto his body—_his_ **but not entirely his anymore**.

The jutsu came to an end, and White Zetsu fought with **him**, Black Zetsu he supposed. They were the same being, yet not, and never would be. As Black Zetsu adapted to his body, he also adapted to his thoughts, his _mind_, and White Zetsu wasn't going to have it, even as they merged. Vaguely, they were aware of their master speaking, performing another jutsu, but what did that matter when—

They failed to notice Madara's movements as they scrambled for control of their body_mind_**thoughts**_mineGETOUT_**NO**.

**We are one,** Black Zetsu—Kuro—intoned, perplexed by the other half's—Shiro's—struggle. The more they tried to be individual, the more their minds tangled.

(One measured step.)

_No! _Madaradidn'tknow, Madara didn't know, Madara _didn't _know about Rin! If only… Shiro could… keep it… that… **w**_A_**Y**!

(Another measured step.)

**And we are two,** Kuro continued, **but we **_**will**_** act as one.**

Kuro's overbearing will, though pale in comparison to Madara's, forced Shiro to submit, opening and leaving bare everything he was to his other half.

(A final step, and the Statue's roots were stretched, pulled taut until they were fit to break.)

There was a line, a very fine one, a definitive White Zetsu and a definitive Black Zetsu; two distinctive halves in perfect counterbalance, but mostly they were _**one**_, and everything became so _clear_.

_You're…?_

**THIS IS—!**

The roots severed in a shower of gelatinous white globs, and Madara lurched forward, life support terminated.

It took a fraction of a second for Kuro to dutifully relay what he knew to Madara.

Then, it took another fraction of a second for the dying Uchiha Madara to begin damage control.

* * *

><p><strong>三<strong>

* * *

><p>Madara had precious few seconds to correct the impulsive, utterly <em>childish<em> whims of his minions. What folly they had committed for their own amusement.

Perhaps the fault laid in his decision to leave them a degree of sentience in hopes they would perform more efficiently, and in his inability to fully trust that they were indeed his unfailingly loyal soldiers.

He supposed he should not have been surprised; it was an inevitability, really. All sentient beings desired some form of free will. The Zetsu were not exempt, and unfortunately, he hadn't programmed them strictly enough.

That was about to be remedied.

Madara would not be denied, even as the death he had eluded for so many years settled into his failing body. In one quicksilver movement, his bony hand plunged itself into Zetsu's chest, the waxy tissue twisting around it.

Zetsu went stiff as a board, unable to move, either half unable to utter a word.

Their shock flooded through their telepathic link, Black Zetsu's more so.

_**Why**_**? What is the meaning of this? **

Swirls of black and white veins bloomed on the contrasting halves, spreading like an uncontrollable wildfire from Madara's sunken palm. The white half's face contorted into a pained grimace, because pain was _new_, and Madara's _burning_ chakra was forcibly altering him.

Their master's impassive expression did not change, hard and unblinking eye boring into his creation(s), even as the frail Uchiha struggled to take breath. Death was no stranger to him.

"Insurance," Madara simply said, pouring all of his remaining chakra into the seal. He staggered backwards, hand coming free from the writhing mass of duotone flesh, collapsing onto his wooden throne. Zetsu fell to his knees before him, gripping his chest.

Through his dimming vision, Madara beheld Obito's bewilderment.

How close his pawns had come to obliterating Tsuki no Me.

He would not allow decades of careful, masterful planning to come crashing down around him. In death, he would remain in control. He'd made certain the girl living would change nothing.

Ah, and if she was still alive when the time for his return came, it would be _interesting_ to learn the secret behind the death she'd cheated.

"Insurance," he repeated to Obito, numbness threading through his limbs, an impossible weight crushing his lungs to nothing. Madara did not break eye contact, issuing a final gasping order, "Until the time of my revival, you shall be _Uchiha Madara_."

Obito tore his eye from the black and white streaks simmering on Zetsu's back, somewhere between wary and curious. Regrettable. Madara didn't prefer it, but his hand had been forced. His safe-guards were in place. The pieces would slowly but surely come together.

His time was up.

"Now, go," he breathed out, a harsh whisper drifting through the cavernous cave, the last words of a god gone dormant.

And thus, Uchiha Madara died, unaware of just how much the seeds of doubt he'd planted with a single action would grow.

* * *

><p><strong>三<strong>

* * *

><p>Guruguru was, for once, rendered speechless, having arrived at the moment of Madara's death. He remained deep within the earth, momentarily stunned, as Kuro raged. He resolved to stay out of Obito's sight and reach until the two above stopped crippling each other via lightning fast mental arguing. (Later, Guruguru wouldn't deny how amusing the two made one were, however, he'd be forever relieved Madara hadn't chosen him to receive his living will. What a <em>nightmare<em>.)

**You **_**idiots**_**! **Kuro seethed, while the white half watched in morbid fascination as the throbbing veins angrily pulsating across their chest grew smaller, eventually smoothing over and fading into their proper coloured skin. The burning pain dispersed with them, and ultimately neither felt worse for the wear, though they knew they'd been irreversibly changed. **Are you even aware of the damage you've caused? What you've done to us? **

Mere seconds after grudgingly accepting Kuro, Shiro was instantly annoyed with him (even though he was technically right). _Madara wannabe_… (Also technically right.)

**I can hear you, and I **_**am**_** a piece of him, you fool. **If Kuro had conventional eyes, he'd have rolled them. The Zetsu clones were truly juvenile morons. His master's mistrust had been valid. Hopefully the seal that restricted them would apply to the rest of the clone network when connected and act as a violent neural shock-collar.

_You're fun,_ Shiro shot back sarcastically, heaving a mental sigh and giving the impression of throwing his arms up. He kept his face neutral—his side, at least; Kuro didn't have any expressions—nervously aware that Obito's quickly cooling gaze was flitting between them and Madara's body.

Kuro growled, displeased with what was very likely suspicion on the Uchiha's part. **Continue your 'friendship' façade, **he commanded, inwardly gnashing his teeth, **and he won't be a problem. **

Guruguru snapped out of his silence. _He _is _our friend, _he said indignantly.

**Like **_**children**_**, **Kuro swore, a somewhat entertaining litany of curses bursting inside of their heads. **Your stupidity has cost us our autonomy!**

_Come on, how was I supposed to know he would use _that_ seal?_ The white half never had an inkling Madara would use such a seal for so-called 'insurance', not on a form of himself, anyway.

Kuro was correct, of course; it was the Kinkoju Seal's primary use. Theirs was an altered, irremovable version to make up for their body's lack of a heart. It existed in every cell of their being now, utterly unescapable by either half, persisting even if one of them perished separately. Madara had guaranteed no clone would ever breathe a word concerning Rin's real status to Obito.

**Not until the time is right…** the black half paused as they considered what their future actions would entail. **Now, how could you have possibly conceived that yours was a good plan? **Kuro's words were a furious storm of disbelief, disgust, and derision. **For friendship? For **_**love**_**? **he spat.** Do you think that girl becoming the Sanbi's jinch****ū****riki was a **_**coincidence**_**? **

_Obviously not, _Guruguru answered with equal disdain. _This wouldn't have happened if Madara _told _us! _

**You've proven exactly why he didn't: you allowed your feelings to cloud your judgement, what little of it there is, **came the icy response.

Shiro could accept what they'd done as stupid, hindsight and all, but it didn't change one very important, very unbelievable fact. _This wouldn't have happened if she didn't come back to life,_ he said.

For a short moment, there was silence in their headspace.

_Can a bij__ū__ heal that kind of wound?_ Guruguru wondered, as skeptical as he was, having seen and felt the enormity of what the Sanbi was capable of, presumably at its weakest, too.

**Impossible. It should have been fatal, even against a jinch****ū****riki's regeneration. **

A human simply didn't come back to life, unless the human in question was Madara or a similar Izanagi user. Nohara Rin was neither, nor was she special in any way that assured her surviving a mortal injury, according to what they knew of her. The mystery of the kunoichi's living was an issue regardless of their actions. It was a small miracle that she hadn't returned to Konoha, as strange as it was.

**Not that she can; Madara's manipulation of the Mist was thorough. She'll die should she try. Her contacting Konoha is another matter, **Kuro considered, agitated. **Dedicate an unnoticeable portion of the network to Midorikawa. We'll deal with her movements from there. **

_What I found was weird, though. I don't think she even tried, _Guruguru added. _When you think about her chakra, it's almost like she's not Rin anymore._

_She _did die_, _Shiro enunciated pointedly, _maybe what came back _wasn't_ Rin._

"Zetsu…?" Obito's dubious interjection ended the clones' back and forth.

_Well, what now?_ Shiro asked, looking down at the boy's guarded face.

**We act.**

_After you._

Guruguru conveyed performing a very neat and exaggerated bow, causing the white half to mentally snort in amusement and the black half to scowl.

"Zetsu," Obito called out again, this time with an imperiousness that irked Kuro. It ground against his nerves; he was not used to such an insolent tone—he was no pet.

"**Boy,"** Kuro warned harshly, that singular word like the snick of a blade. The Uchiha's eye snapped to his, narrowing dangerously at the open insult.

_Hey, you want us to act, and the first thing you do is antagonize him?_

Kuro said nothing, though a brief rumble of displeasure rolled through their link.

"Obito," Shiro started with his usual light-hearted tone, face easily sliding into an inquisitive yet friendly expression, watching the human intently. He seemed to startle Obito, causing a slight raise of brows that spoke volumes of just how uneasy Madara and Kuro had made him. "What do you need?" Subconsciously, they pulled their now completed plant-like spikes up and around them, idly noting the similarity to a Venus flytrap.

Obito's eyebrows drew together, tension twisting his facial scars, before he blew out a breath and circled Zetsu once, undoubtedly predatory.

"Insurance," Obito echoed levelly, laced with undercurrents of something a little too dark, a little too leery for Kuro's liking, "what did he mean by that?" As he came to face them, his Sharingan slowly scrutinized every inch of them, glowing eerily in the cave's darkness, trying to ascertain exactly what Madara's final action had achieved, and what had warranted such in his dying moments. His eye unintentionally lingered on Zetsu's chest, Madara's ruthlessness no doubt reminiscent of Rin's "death".

"My, my, ordering me around already?" Shiro chuckled, raising his eyebrow with a grin, pleased when Obito's rigid shoulders dropped ever so slightly.

_Yay! He still trusts us!_ Guruguru cheered. _I'll come up soon. _

"**Insurance against foolish mistakes being repeated. A necessity in the face of their blatant disobedience,"** Kuro told him, his anger towards the clones evident. **"They will no longer act as free agents; **_**you**_** will control them."** He attempted to filter out the bitterness, loathed to add that he was included, leaving it to the Uchiha to deduce.** "There will be no more wasted time on errors and falsities."**

Wind whistled through the airy cavern as Obito growled, "Rin," leaking killing intent, fist clenching hard enough that a trickle of blood dripped through his fingers.

And there it was, the one subject that would easily feed into the Curse of Hatred and completely distract him. Ah, how it pleased Kuro; it would only take a little more for the board to be set.

"_Why_?" Obito demanded with no small amount of fury, stepping forward aggressively, "why did you say that? You _knew_." His eye narrowed again, Sharingan shifting, as though he'd had a revelation, frowning deeply. His attitude shifted from downright wrathful to Madara's calculating coldness. "Were you trying to manipulate me?" he accused, focused solely on Shiro.

Oh, this was too perfect, that he'd made the fake connection with no nudging, Kuro thought, entirely pleased with the outcome.

Shiro flinched at Obito's words, wilting under his poisonous glare. "No, we thought… We were trying to help…" His yellow eye darted away from the blazing red as the raven-haired boy titled his head a fraction.

"Help me?" he repeated condescendingly.

"Guruguru even went to scout," the clone admitted, vexing his other half, though he allowed it. "She wasn't actually alive, but she really _was_ walking around." Shiro looked back to Obito, somber. "It seems her body was booby-trapped, or…" he trailed off, leaving it to either Kuro or Guruguru to drop the bomb.

Uncertainty flickered across Obito's face, fast replaced by rage at the thought of Rin's body being defiled in such a disgraceful way. "_What_? For what reason?" Each word was punctuated by tightly, barely constrained hatred.

**Very good,** Kuro commented, his contentment obvious. He turned his attention to Guruguru. **Your turn. **

_If you're sure,_ he replied hesitantly, materializing before them. "I know," he said, spines coiling tighter when he inevitably became the target of Obito's intensity. He _really_ had changed; it made Guruguru kind of sad. "Kiri turned her into a jinchūriki," he spoke plainly, after all, what was left to embellish?

Kuro elaborated, a final heartless stab,** "A bijū's chakra won't fully dissipate immediately upon the host's death. It was likely the demon controlling her corpse in a futile attempt to 'live.'"**

Obito's face fell, and for a second he appeared the broken boy that'd just witnessed Rin's death, only to be replaced by a mask of stone.

"…I understand," he said in a monotone, though a heavier flow of blood sluiced down his knuckles to colour the ground red.

_**Yes**_**, **Kuro hissed triumphantly. Now they could begin.

Obito stared into nothingness for a moment longer, the crimson stain in the dirt growing larger, then silently walked over to Madara's corpse. The Zetsu observed in curious silence as he inspected it, pushing aside the thick, ivory hair, running his fingers delicately over the still face as if he was searching for something.

A moment can be an eternity in a genjutsu. Perhaps he was searching for the Madara, undoubtedly youthful, that had helped shape him into the man he would become.

_The father he never had? _Shiro guessed, inching closer at Kuro's urging.

Obito's hand made a sharp movement, and a tuft of white came free, fluttering into his open palm. He wasted no time drawing a seal most certainly of Madara's brand in blood on a torn piece of the robe he wore, locking the precious strands behind fūinjutsu.

"**Take further precaution," **Kuro stated flatly, unimpressed with the show of rather advanced sealing knowledge.

Obito fixed him with a piercing glare, the edges of his lips turning downwards as if to say _I know_. The air around the seal gently spiralled, turning inwards, disappearing into Kamui with a twist. Madara had warned him of those who would dare repeat Senju Tobirama's kinjutsu. He intended to hold the key to that technique until the very end.

Shiro's concerned eye dropped to the ruined stump of Obito's arm. The damaged clone tissue dangled uselessly, occasionally oozing fat drops of opaque liquid.

"We should replace it," he murmured, gesturing to the half-finished clones hanging lifelessly from the Gedō Mazō.

"I will," Obito replied, beckoning Guruguru to come. The clone saluted and happily obliged, jumping in one fluid pounce onto one of the branches blooming from the mighty statue. He deftly removed a right arm off of a would-be Zetsu, soaring down from his perch to present it to the Uchiha the way a proud cat would offer its prey to its owner.

Obito took it from him, sucked in a breath, and jammed it against the stump in one brutal movement. His arm had been trying to repair itself from the moment he lost it, but hadn't been able to make up the sheer magnitude of the tissue loss. He fell to his knees, snarling in pain as the mokuton cells went into overdrive, sensing what they required to finish the job, surging into the injured area, all seeking to connect as one.

"Ahh, you didn't need to do that!" Guruguru exclaimed, hovering over Obito like a mother hen.

"**Madara taught you surgical methods," **Kuro admonished, unsure of why his charge had chosen the swifter, more painful yet still effective route. What was he planning?

"Guruguru, I'll need to wear you for now," Obito stood, panting, eye burning with a mixture of determination, anger, and a touch of delirium.

"As if I'll let you go anywhere without me in this state!" The clone animatedly raised his arms in an X shape before opening his spines to curl around him.

As soon as Guruguru was suitably wrapped around him, Obito's hands flew through Mokuton seals. Wood blossomed from the ground, creaking and groaning as it stretched upwards, weaving together in a criss-cross pattern. He picked up Madara's body gingerly, wordlessly laying it atop the wood.

Knowing what Obito meant to do, they all stepped back. Guruguru let the spines encasing the boy's head burst open. Obito breathed deeply, then spat a torrent of superheated fire, engulfing the pyre in a blazing inferno, spinning higher and higher until the flames licked the ceiling. The scent of acrid smoke and roasting flesh filled the cavern. Tall, otherworldly shadows danced madly across the walls as the flames burned brighter, the only other spectators to the great Uchiha Madara's funeral.

"Where are we going?" Shiro asked, white skin cast sickly orange by the fire.

"To Amegakure," Obito replied over the roar of the fire, unfazed by the searing heat. He would watch Madara's body burn to ash, then scatter them into the bottomless void beneath the platforms in his dimension.

**Nagato,** Kuro laughed darkly, a grating sound in their minds.

* * *

><p><strong>三<strong>

* * *

><p>They kept a vigil for several more hours tirelessly—sleeplessly now that Obito required far less of it—as the inferno raged on, until the flames died as Madara had, the wood mere scorch marks scarring the ground, and the body of their master nothing more than wispy cinders.<p>

Obito gathered them soundlessly and disappeared into Kamui.

_Are you sure he won't find out about Rin?_ Shiro asked as they walked towards the armoury.

**He may, in time, should she survive that long,** Kuro said, menace threading his tone.

The white half hummed noncommittedly, donning a cloak.

**What's the matter? I thought you enjoyed entertaining things?**

_Your sarcasm isn't lost on me,_ Shiro huffed. _Will Obito really be able to kill her?_

**Such doubt, **Kuro said scornfully, **by the end, he'll have waded in so deep he'll be drowning in blood, unable to see the surface. One woman will change nothing.**

_After all, they'll meet again in Infinite Tsukuyomi._

**How **_**romantic**_**, **Kuro deadpanned. To Obito and Guruguru, who appeared beside them, he said,** "Seal the entrance. The clones will guard it." **

That they did. The earth rumbled as the massive stone shifted into place, lines of fūinjutsu running over it and melting into its surface, leaving the monstrous Gedō Mazō alone in the blackness once more, until it would be called upon by Nagato.

They walked out into the night.

After casting one final look at the place where he'd learned the ultimate truth, Obito said, "We're going."

The plane of the world shifted before them, and in the next moment, they stood in a cold, unending rain.

Only Guruguru noticed the small red bracelet Obito never let go of.

* * *

><p><strong>Important Author's Note. Skip at your own expense.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter comments:<strong> I went with my original plan of AU Zetsu and Madara, and I must say I like them much more than canon and had way more fun than I would've attempting to stick with canon.

**General comments: **So, what can I even say after being gone this long? I fully intend to complete this story no matter how long it takes. This is a story I _need_ to tell for myself.

**What happened?**

Short story: It stopped being about myself.

Long story: I never expected to get more than maybe five readers for this story. When that far exceeded any expectations I had, I panicked and stopped writing for myself, trying to please everyone else instead, which caused all sorts of problems seeing as I already suffer from obsessive tendencies and crippling perfectionism.

Adding to that, canon shifted drastically shortly after I posted SFU and that threw me off quite a bit. Old readers may remember my author's note asking for help, which many of you did. It was incredibly touching that so many of you reached out to help me or give me your opinion.

Adding _further_ to that, I'm chronically ill to the point I've been on disability for many years. Every day is a struggle to get out of bed. Every day I'm sick, in pain, or frequently a combination of the two. There have been times these past two years where I've been afraid I would die and times I've wished I would. My illnesses makes writing coherently so, so difficult—words can't convey how difficult. Please understand it was never my intention to leave you hanging or start something I wouldn't finish. This _will_ be finished come hell or high water (which is incidentally a chapter title).

I'm deeply sorry, dear readers, that I let you down like this. I'm sorrier I let myself down. I'm working on my anxieties with writing and have some amazing friends by my side to pull me up when I've fallen down.

**Your comeback chapter didn't include Rin! **Yes, dear readers, this was my thought too. For that I'm quite sorry. I truly wanted to give you a massive 10-15k chapter as a treat, but my close friend **BirdBoss** implored me to finish this and post what I had to kick-start myself and her advice is always solid. I will most definitely be working to get the next chapter out as quickly as I'm able. I promise you won't be waiting years for it. Think of this fic like a rollercoaster: after the ascent, it's just gonna GO GO GO, no exaggeration.

**On side-stories: **Please check out **One Foot in the Grave** if you'd like more SFU! It contains side-stories and POVs of characters that don't really get touched on in the main fic, including Obito and Rin's father. Don't read the first chapter if you want to remain spoiler-free. I'm terrible like that.

**On reviews:** Guest reviewers, if you have a question for me, please make an account to leave a review or PM. I can't reply to you otherwise as I don't do so in-fic.

Other reviewers that may have commented on my author's note in August 2014, if you have something to say please leave me a logged out review with your penname and you will have my eternal gratitude!

I try to respond to every review I get, but sometimes I'm overwhelmed and don't get the chance. Know that I am forever grateful for whatever you leave me and keep me inspired when times are rough.

**On demands to update:** If you like this story updating, don't do it. It's incredibly demoralizing. Asking me when the next update will be or wording it nicely is fine, but rudely demanding I update hurts a lot because it's the thing I want to do most. I love writing; it's one of the only things I have, so you can bet it's deeply depressing when I can't do it.

**On pairings:** I've gotten a lot of questions and speculations regarding pairings. For those of you that haven't read my profile, this fic's endgame is a Rin/Kakashi/Obito OT3, wherein all three are equally interested in each other, so yes, this means some ObiKaka and a polyamorous relationship.

Normally I dislike announcing pairings before they become relevant, but I want those of you who are uncomfortable with this to not become further invested and leave if you need to. Please refrain from leaving bigoted remarks or begging me to change it. I will not change it.

If romance taking over the story is your concern, I can promise that's not happening. If your concern is smut, I doubt I'll be writing anything super detailed, and if I do it will be posted separately on my AO3 (datsonyat). In addition, all characters will be over the age of eighteen.

**On thanks: **Thank you to all that have supported this story through reading, favourites, and follows! A huge thank you to those that were kind enough to leave reviews! It means more to me than you'll ever know.

**Thank you **to **Zerojackson, Silver Queen, RaspberryCaramelDream, Darth Nefurious, Fallerullandeig, Onyxrox, The Scrap, **and** Peyton LeVay** for PM'ing me and talking ideas when I posted my author's note asking for help. Some of us met outside of that, but the gist is the same. What each of you had to say and what each of you did meant a lot and helped me immeasurably, even if you aren't around to read it now.

**All of my love** goes to **Petrichor in May** (who's been with me from the very beginning), **CompYES**, **Rhaplanca** (my dear, if I start with you I'll get sappy),** SassySizzleMonster, nora9gina,** and last but certainly not least, **BirdBoss**. I could type novels about these lovely ladies, what they've done for me, the support they've given me, and how they became the most amazing friends.

Honestly, readers, you and I owe **BirdBoss** for this update. Without her support, encouragement, and friendship over the last year, I would've quit. I was ready to give up and she was the one to knock some sense into me in the kindest way possible. She always inspires me to continue when I feel I can't and has even co-written some scenes with me when I'm entirely stuck.

**SI Recommendations: **Fics I've read and feel deserve more of a spotlight. I'll be doing this every chapter and already have a few sets, however feel free to recommend me some fics to read anyway!

_Of Poison_ (Karin SI) by nora9gina, _Waves Bring You Home_ (Uzumaki OC SI) by Petrichor in May, _Tangents of a Different Kind_ (Jiraiya's daughter SI) by SassySizzleMonster, and _The Voice Inside Your Head_ (Inner Sakura SI) by BirdBoss.

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><p>I can safely say you'll never see an author's note this size again. Thanks for reading, all! I hope I answered any questions you had. If not, just drop me a PM!<p> 


	5. The Living and the Dead

**Beta: **CompYES

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><p><strong>Starting Out at Six Feet Under<strong>

**The Living and the Dead**

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><p>Have you ever slept in a place that your waking mind knows isn't <em>right<em>—isn't safe—but you're just way too tired to care? Like, every part of your conscious self knows _you aren't supposed to be here_, yet you still can't bring yourself to wake up.

That was how I felt, even as someone nudged my shoulder and softly said, "Hey."

"Mom, no," I groaned, unwilling to drag myself to consciousness, though I knew she would never relent. Ugh, had I fallen asleep on the ground, face down, eating dirt? _Niiice one._ Klonopin is a hell of a drug, let me tell you that.

('Denial' and 'Jenn' might as well be synonymous.)

She laughed a little, the sweet sound nearly lost by the bustle of a crowd. "Sorry," she said with a hint of sadness.

_Sorry, I'm not your mother,_ it implied. _That's impossible because you _**died**, something boomed inside of me, chilling me to the bone.

A raging tsunami of memories crashed against the shores of my mind, an all-powerful force sucking me under, forcing me to accept the irrevocable truth as it stung my eyes and flooded my lungs the way real water might. I clawed at the earth, gasping, desperately wanting to believe I wasn't drowning, but it was hopeless to attempt to escape the memories of everything I'd endured assailing me.

_Redredred—lightning—birds—pain, so much pain—ohgod, mychest—whoareyou, whoamI—_

She grabbed my shoulders, her touch gentle but firm, meaning to still me as my body thrashed violently in her grip. My eyes spun rapidly behind my tightly shut eyelids, the nauseating threat of vertigo enough to keep me from opening them. Stray tears leaked from my eyes, and I ground my teeth so hard I could hear the revolting noise.

I didn't _want_ to know, I didn't _want_ to see. I didn't _want_ to have to _accept_ it! _Why me? _What had I done to deserve this? I wanted to be _alive_, and more than anything I wanted to be _Jenn_, not _her_. A choking sob bubbled up in my heaving chest, a furious kaleidoscope of lights and colours bursting behind my dizzied eyes.

"_Hey_!" she said sternly, voice filled with authority yet managing to keep the kind tone; she reminded me of a doctor with a good bedside manner—trust me when I say I've known my fair share of complete failures that never should've gotten close to the title. "I'm taking care of you now. It'll be okay, don't worry."

Her statement was like sorcery: my jerking body went slack under her hands, limbs filling with lead, making it nearly impossible to move. I was all but nailed to the ground.

"_No_," I grit out, wanting to say so much more. _All _I could do was worry. Where was I? At what point would someone inevitably find me? My scar burned with sharp, stabbing pain, shooting straight through to my back as uncontrollable panic surged through me. I had to escape, had to keep going. I couldn't let it end here.

I tried to move, to roll, to _run_. My rigid limbs refused, only twitching in response to my all-consuming desire to _get the hell away_.

_You can't go back anymore._

I sucked in a shivery half-breath, my fingers digging deep rows into the earth. The sound of people walking by didn't stop, causing my heart to thud painfully in my chest. For once, please god, let them not notice me, let them continue to ignore the girl lying face down in the middle of the street. If they were anything like the folks back home, they wouldn't care to spare a second glance, to make me their problem.

I grimaced when children circled around us, laughing—and my friends wondered why I despised them, _ugh_—then ran past us. I heard the sound of little feet against metal and gravel.

For the umpteenth time: what the hell? Was I in a park? _Screw that_, I had to get away. I pulled myself forward painstakingly, inch by inch. Coarse dirt scraped my stinging forehead and nose.

By that time, I was fully in fight or flight mode and it didn't matter; I would do whatever it took to escape.

She didn't really try to stop me, but the woman—girl? She sounded younger—sighed, not in an entirely exasperated way, kind of like a "Geez, you know I care about you, right?" way.

Wasn't she just a stranger, what made me her business? Why did she care? Why was she bothering? Static rattled around in my head. I couldn't think clearly. Struggling had made me lightheaded, and I sunk into the ground against my will. No, _no_! Nothing made sense. It felt like I was losing my grip on reality again. That _couldn't_ happen, I _had_ to _leave_.

Well, if I was gonna lie there uselessly, I had to ask questions, at least, maybe beg her not to turn me in.

"Where am I?" I wheezed out, unable to control my breathing, darkness turning the bursts of colour flashing behind my eyes into wispy shadows, on the edge of blacking out into some unfathomable abyss. I didn't know why, but I _had_ to stay awake. Something churning in my guts told me I would go somewhere horrible if I failed to.

"Here, with me."

_Serious eye-roll. Wow_, thank you, that was _so_ helpful. I swore audibly. Where was here and who was she? Her voice was familiar. I knew I'd heard it somewhere before.

_You know, you know,_ soft, fleeting whispers danced around my head, so low I strained to hear them.

_Who?_

"Don't worry," she repeated, pulling my head into her lap, much to my chagrin. She stroked my hair tenderly. It was strangely comforting, as if she were an old friend. "Like I said, I'm looking after you for now. It'll be okay, I promise."

Hot anger rushed through my veins at her words, lighting them with boiling rage as blood beat loudly in my ears.

What did she know? How _dare_ she?

Everything'll be okay? _Okay?_ Was she _serious?_ I had died, and through some utterly sick twist of fate ended up waking up in a body that should've been dead, that wasn't mine, and that just happened to be the container of a vengeful demon hell-bent on ripping himself out of me. Which would kill me. _Again._ Nothing would ever be okay again; this chick either had no idea what she was talking about or she belonged in an insane asylum.

I coughed, mindlessly searching for any way to force my breathing back into a sustainable pattern. My body felt unimaginably heavy, so heavy I could barely move. Through sheer force of will, I bent my knees, arching my backend up like some kind of freaktastic cat. Exhaling sharply through my nose and snarling, I pushed myself up onto my elbows, shaking as though I was Atlas carrying the weight of the world on my back.

She ran her hand over my head one final time, patting me reassuringly, before I felt her warmth move away from me. I got the distinct impression her eyebrows were drawing together wistfully. "You don't need to go, not yet."

_Yeah, right._ I snorted incredulously, such a bitter sound. "Who are you?" I asked, struggling with all my might to keep my position. My hair had fallen down around my face, the feather-light touches tickling my skin. I still wasn't used to the longer hair, longer than mine used to be, anyway.

A combination of my voice and Rin's slithered through my mind, _"Who am I now?" _

My heart began to beat faster, pumping strength throughout my lightening body.

"_Who are you now?"_ echoed back.

Hesitantly, I raised my head, shaking. "Who are you?" I demanded roughly, a fraction of a second away from opening my eyes to come face to face with someone I would never be prepared for. It couldn't be her, _how_ could it possibly be her? She's dead!

_You're dead, too._

"Who are _you?_" she returned sincerely, like she already knew, the maddening words devoid of cruelty no matter how they cut me. I knew her voice, and I knew _why_.

I _needed_ to _see_.

There's nothing quite like opening your eyes and realizing you _can't_. The last time it'd happened, I was so grateful to simply be alive; having a meltdown wasn't even on my checklist. Blurriness and outright blindness, however, were two very different monsters, especially when you used to be someone that desperately needed glasses to see _anything_.

Predictably, I freaked out.

"Oh, god no! Not this, please no, _no no no_! Anything but this!" I panicked, blindly reaching for anything I could get my hands on without thought. My words spewed forth, a jumbled, tremulous mess of fear. I kept blinking with fervour, hoping that this would somehow restore my sight. Tears streamed down my face unashamedly.

Her fingertips brushed just under my eyes, tingling with chakra. My vision lit up, wholly blurry, and I stupidly tried reaching for the glasses that would've been perched atop my head otherwise.

I blinked harder in surprise, a coldness blanketing me like a fine layer of snow. Her face was so blurry, yet she was _there_, kneeling in front of me. I hardly required clear sight when the splotches of bright purple sitting on her cheeks made it so obvious. A blob of blue and grey, glinting metal wrapped around her forehead sent an overwhelming flood of guilt over me.

I'd done something horrible and disgusting by throwing it away, hadn't I?

"Rin…?" I was unable to stop the name spilling from my lips, choking on a million different emotions, none of them good.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—didn't mean to steal your… _I'm sorry._ A sob caught in my throat, hot tears spilling down my cheeks. I didn't mean to—I never meant to…

"Rin," she said back to me, rising to her feet, and somehow I knew she was smiling warmly. "You'll be okay, I know it," she reassured, taking a step back.

She couldn't _leave_. I had too many questions. I tried forcing my legs to work, half-standing until they gave out and sent me back to my knees.

"Rin," someone said, startling me. Another pair of legs clad in brightly patterned leggings appeared beside my double's red stockings. That voice… I looked up sharply in shock, colour draining from my face, frustrated beyond belief with the blurriness (even if it was clearing slowly).

That shock of royal purple hair, the obnoxious clothing, and a colourful left arm covered in what had to be tattoos—my jaw dropped when I realized I was looking at myself. I was looking straight at Jenn.

My bulging eyes swivelled between them, unsure of how and why I was seeing what I was seeing. My breath came in quick gasps, palms freezing and sweaty.

Suddenly, my identity became hazy, my name fusing in my head like some gross parody of a pairing. _Jenn, Rin, Jenn, Rin, JennRin—JENRIN, JENRIN—_ It sped up, blaring to the point of near deafness as I stumbled to my feet, speechless.

In the distance, I saw three huge faces—_Shodaime, Nidaime, Sandaime_—carved into a great mountain overlooking multi-coloured rooftops. Massive, lush, green trees, the likes of which I'd never seen before, towered over all, reaching upwards into the sky as if to greet the sun.

_Konohagakure._

Fear, pure and absolute, pierced through every fibre of my being.

"You know," Jenn began, giving me a two-fingered salute, "you really don't give yourself enough credit." With a jolt, I realized she'd addressed me as Rin. My vision was coming more and more into focus as she spoke. Her other hand reached out to Rin's side, who took it gently. Their hands clasped together, fingers twining around each other.

The importance of this action did not go unnoticed. My mouth went dry. "Please, wait!" I dashed forward, only to trip, sending myself sprawling to the ground. Gravel bit into my palms, but the pain meant nothing and I forced myself back to my feet. They _couldn't_ leave. They couldn't leave _me_ here. I didn't belong _here_.

(Did I?)

They turned from me and walked into the constant flow of people, into the brilliant orange of the sunset.

"You're not as weak as you think you are," Rin called back.

"So have some faith," Jenn finished her salute with a flourish, holding up her hand in a victory sign, "and give 'em hell!"

This couldn't happen. There was no way I could let them leave.

"Wait!" I screamed, throwing myself into the throng of people, uncaring if I injured them in my frenzied state. A shoulder knocked into me, pushing me back as if I was nothing more than a weak child. I screamed again in anger, kicking the back of the knee of the person in front of me. As they stumbled, I took a running leap off of their back, pushing off their shoulders with my feet.

I soared through the air, keeping my eyes trained on the blob of purple fast disappearing into the crowd. I landed gracefully, wasting no time in sweeping my legs out in a wide arc to drop the feet of all those standing in my way out from under them. Their complaints fell on deaf ears. What did it matter that I knew how to do this if I let them disappear? If they were going to make me keep this body, live in this world, then by god was I ever going to use it.

The crowd of people grew thicker, louder, squeezing me between the mess of talking, laughing, oblivious bodies, making running an impossibility. I forced myself forward, ignoring the growing sense of claustrophobia, catching a glimpse of them just ahead of me. It seemed like everyone was becoming taller and stronger while I shrunk, tiny and insignificant, powerless to press on.

They were there, _right there_. "Wait—I'm here!" I cried out, reaching with all my strength as I fought in the sea of flesh. My arm stretched as far as it would go, fingers barely taking hold of Jenn's billowing, black top.

"_If I die, bury me on a nice day, will you?" I say with humour, absentmindedly stirring the frankly strange contents of a boiling pot. _

_Mom, stunned, nearly drops a plate, catching herself in the nick of time. She sets it down forcefully, the loud clack echoing throughout the kitchen. She turns to glare at me, tears in her eyes, anger twisting her normally kind face into a scary frown. _

"_Now you listen to me, Jennifer," she stalks over to me, shaking her finger like a weapon. "You are not going to die!" She blinks back her tears and I feel like a monster, standing in front of her quietly, looking at the floor. Why did I say that? I never mean to upset her._

"_You are not that sick! You won't—you won't." She can't finish the sentence. "I won't let you!" _

"_I—I was joking, I'm sorry, I know—" _

_She pulls me into her arms, hugging me fiercely as I murmur shaky half-apologies through my tears. _

_The soup bubbles over, spilling across the stove. Neither of us care. _

It's a nice top for a funeral.

Jenn's flowing shirt slipped out of my limp hand, and in the second it took for me to blink, they were gone as if they'd never existed. I stood in the spot they'd disappeared, staring blankly. No one spoke a word about my violence, of the odd presence of one who never should've been there, and certainly not of the reality that'd warped.

"Now what?" I whispered shakily to myself, subconsciously pulling my arms around myself in a mocking hug. Konoha, I was in _Konoha_. I was so _screwed_.

I timidly glanced at the unfamiliar (familiar) storefronts, my reflection in the glass undoubtedly of Rin. Confusion rolled through me. My appearance was _pristine_. No blood, no wounds, no ripped up clothing, and I was wearing the hita-ate I'd previously thrown away. I leaned in, squinting, adjusting the headband with both hands. The cloth felt _real_ between them. However minimal, I could feel its weight. It made me happy, knowing that I hadn't thrown away such a prized possession.

Why had I even thought of throwing it away? I'd never do something like that—

Oh, hell no! I slapped myself, the sting of the impact enough of an anchor. _Yes_, yes I _would_. I did it because I'm Jenn, and _I_ do _not_ want to be a shinobi.

_Are you sure?_

"I'm Jenn," I said under my breath, gritting my teeth. My voice wavered and I was uncertain if I actually believed myself. The infuriated expression looked… _off_ on Rin's face. (My face.)

"Hey, Rin!"

I jerked up instinctively, whirling in the direction of the young, boyish voice. Shit, I still didn't have much of an idea on how to pass as her. My mind made up in an instant, I quickly ducked into the alley beside the shop.

Soon, it became clear to me that I had no idea where to go.

_This way._

I jumped out of my skin at the whisper, utterly confused when the few women that happened to be walking by didn't even cast me a second glance. It didn't sound like the demon, not at all. I prayed he'd stay silent and obedient (ha, unlikely) until I booked it straight out the front gate.

"Well, that's pretty convenient," I muttered, mentally tracing through the path that'd lit up like the Beacons of Gondor in my mind.

I weaved through side-streets, slowing every now and then to take in the sights. Did Konoha _ever_ look hella weird compared to my city. It wasn't like it was terrible, though; I didn't hate it or anything. (I hated what they might do to me, to get at the monster inside me.)

_Orange hair, piercings, Rinnegan._

My insides suddenly twisted at the thought of Pein blowing this place off the face of the planet.

I couldn't… What could I do?

_Me_, kill Pein? Yeah, so not happening. I'd be on another continent when that went down, no argument there.

"Not my responsibility," I said, not entirely believing myself, flipping off a rooftop to land in a street below. I looked around awkwardly, unsure of why I'd been urged here. I saw what I guessed was a hospital not too far down the road.

"Rin!" the voice called out again. A boy with spiky black-hair and wearing goggles, younger and shorter than me, shot out from around the corner. Dust rose in small clouds from his speed trail as he slid to a stop. He leaned over, panting, trying to catch his breath.

Goddamnit! He'd caught me. What was I supposed to do? How should I react? Act natural? My natural was completely different than Rin's natural. I was so caught up in my racing thoughts, I failed to notice that there was another smaller, younger Rin working in an herb garden not five feet from me.

"Obito!" she greeted happily, standing and brushing herself off. "I thought you were busy today."

My stomach leapt into my throat, chest complaining in pain. "Ohhmifuff," I swore into my hand which I'd promptly slapped across my mouth. This was just as bad as the forest. Er, was I in the Matrix or what? Was I living a more real version of a memory like the flashes I'd been getting? No, that couldn't be true, I'd had one before… before… _Other Rin_—what else can I call her?—and Jenn vanished.

(Now, my friends, if I'd been in any proper state of mind, I would've thought about that just a little more. It was so _wrong_. And traumatizing. Shudder.)

Wait, Obito? The name was oddly familiar, maybe not so much odd as he seemed to be Rin's friend. Had I known someone with that name or heard it in passing before, though?

_Teammate. War. _

The hair on the back of my neck rose like I was an enraged cat, and I found myself reaching for a kunai. I came to a start when I understood what I was doing. I immediately felt sick. Oh god, how the hell was I possibly thinking about harming a child? I had instantaneously disliked this cute, benign friend of Rin's like he was the devil himself, so much so that I wanted to arm myself?

I frowned as I peeked out to spy on them. What did I know about him that she didn't? I shook it off, ignoring the warning bells going off in the recesses of my mind. He was just a kid.

"Oh, um, kinda," he stammered, face flushed, onyx eyes nervously darting back and forth. He fished around in his pockets, continuing to fidget even after he got ahold of something.

Other Rin watched him curiously, amused smile perking her face up. "You shouldn't slack off just to visit me, you know," she said, though her glowing smile remained. She peeled her gloves off carefully. I suspected she'd been working with poisonous plants. (Me plus knowledge of poison? Now _that's_ an unnerving combo.)

Even if she reprimanded him, she was still quite happy he'd swung by, that much I could tell. I could also tell the little dude had a crush on her; actually, he broadcast it so obviously that the shingles on the roofs could tell. He was not subtle. I scoffed inside, rolling my eyes. Surely she knew?

_You ignored him. It was easier to keep pretending you didn't know._

A venomous snakebite of guilt coursed through me. I shut my eyes in pain when my heart gave an excruciating thump. Why did it hurt…? I clutched my right hand to my aching chest.

Obito looked around again, turning redder the longer Other Rin gave him her full attention. "I, uh, well—here!" he said in a strangled tone, ripping his hand out of his pocket to present her with a simple red bracelet. "I wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday. For my graduation. It… it meant a lot," he said softly, adorable, goofy smile relaxing his features.

She blinked in surprise, "For me?" Other Rin stared at the gift, taken aback, but seemingly honoured. "Wow, this is one of those special kunoichi bracelets!"

I gripped the wall I was leaning against, legs shaking as the pain grew stronger. My chest constricted. Anguish bubbled up in my soul. Why…?

_He's dead, like you._

_Dead?_ This cute little kid had died? I swallowed the painful lump in my throat, tears beading in the corners of my eyes. Why was he dead?

Obito noticed her hesitation right away. "I can get you a different one if you don't like it! It looks like it won't fit—"

"I'll grow into it, so I can wear it for much longer," Other Rin beamed, brown eyes shining, and threw her arms around him. He squawked awkwardly, completely unsure of where to put his hands. Steam might've poured out of his ears, even after she let go. "It's perfect! Thank you, Obito!"

"Perfect…?" He made it sound like that was the best thing anyone had ever said to him. His expression was as brilliant as the sun.

I hardly noticed tears were running freely down my face. _No_, he couldn't really be dead, could he?

"Yes!" Other Rin nodded enthusiastically, holding her left hand out.

I couldn't help but copy her, holding mine out in the same fashion. It was there but—had it always been there? Any memory of it felt burnt out like an overused film reel. No matter how I tried, I couldn't remember it. The bracelet flickered in and out of reality, and faded from my wrist.

For a second, it looked like Obito might've teared up, but it was quickly replaced by a radiant grin and light pink cheeks. He raised the bracelet and—

I was standing in front of him, Other Rin gone, as he slid it onto my bare wrist with a grim smile. My breath hitched in my throat, a pathetic, disbelieving sob caught there. "I'll always wear it," I promised him, because it felt like the proper thing—the only thing—to say, covering his hand with the one he wasn't holding. It was so familiar, although it seemed like forever since I'd last touched it. "I-I'll never take it off."

_I don't want you to be dead, _I dearly wanted to add, but couldn't through the ugly sobs I attempted to hold back.

"Yeah, I know," Obito replied reassuringly, the same sad smile growing a little sadder, eyes downcast, and in the blink of an eye, he was older and wearing different clothing and _I knew_ because Other Rin did; she'd witnessed the unthinkable firsthand.

_Rocks will fall._

The peaceful sunset over Konoha shattered with a thunderous boom, the sky turning into a black void, casting shadows so dark I could barely see. It felt like walls had closed in around us. Dust and rocks clattered over my head and shoulders. The ground rumbled and groaned, heaving violently under my feet. I screamed, fighting to keep my balance as it cracked, pieces of street that had transformed into plain stone rising and falling under me.

_You know what happens next._

"No!" I shrieked over the deafening earthquake, wrenching Obito's hand. "Come on!" Another scream tore itself from my throat as the earth split between us with a loud crack.

Obito didn't move as the world fell to chaos around us nor did his expression change. "Since I didn't get to tell you then, I'll tell you now," he said, prying off my white-knuckled grip with ease.

"_No_!" I begged, refusing to let go of him, refusing to leave him behind, not even when a particularly large rock struck my shoulder. I grunted, pain shooting down my arm and back, falling into a kneel. Still, I would not let go of him. "Tell me after!" If we ran now, we could make it!

_He can't. _

Obito shook his head, eyes never leaving mine, "I have to stay, Rin. I can't follow you." The chasm between us grew larger. My hand started to slip.

_He's gone to a place where you can't follow._

"NO!" I screamed one final time, voice raw with denial and despair.

Rocks pelted me harder, until the darkness was absolute, the warmth of his hand the only thing left telling me he was still there. "Rin, I've always loved you, so please live." He let my fingers slip from his grasp.

"OBITO!"

It felt like the scar on my chest should be the hole torn open. I couldn't save him. It was over and I would never be able to do anything about it. I hadn't been able to save him. Not then, not now.

The earth roared so loudly the sound of my screaming was lost, my eardrums wailing in pain along with me. The platform I was standing on broke beneath me, the air whooshing from my lungs at the sudden drop as I began to fall into the unknown. Red rushed up past me, trails of white hot steam and bubbles of demonic chakra lighting up the blackness. I fell into a wide cavern lit up from the glow of the furious, molten red pool at the bottom.

My eyes widened when I saw it, the seal on my stomach burning to life with a vengeance. I heard his spiteful whispers in my mind, too quiet and far away to discern yet, but it wouldn't be long if I didn't halt my flight. The idea of going head to head with him again so soon was enough to snap me out of my grief.

Falling into the demon's pit?

Honey, I may be emotionally devastated, but I don't think so. I flung my limbs out in a last-ditch effort to catch myself on anything that would stop my fall. I wasn't about to re-enact Gandalf vanquishing the Balrog.

"_Take my hand!"_

Without thought, I thrust my arm up to meet my saviour's grip, hanging over the pit of hellish chakra for a terrifying instant before they pulled me up with authority. I found myself back in the cramped tunnel, earthquake still raging like an angry god. Darkness devoured my sight as the geyser of steam and noxious, glowing chakra bubbles were blocked by the collapsing stone.

The lesser of two evils, really, and that was minimizing it.

I staggered to my feet, calling out in vain to the person who'd saved me. The cacophony of shattering stone and heaving earth sounded like bombs detonating in my ears. I moved forward unsteadily, shouting with all my might. Leaving a second person to die? I'd never allow myself to be so heartless (but cowardly Jenn would, if it meant seeing her loved ones one more time). The stone above me exploded, raining down massive chunks. My mind auto-shifted gears into ninja mode, and I jumped forward and rolled, barely dodging when I felt the force of the freight-train-like impact behind me.

"_What are you doing? Run for the exit!" _

_Exit?_ Why didn't they say so sooner? A sliver of light shone at the end of the tunnel, igniting a feverish determination in me. I would _live_; dying again wasn't an option, not to a pile of rocks and never to that asshole demon. I wouldn't let Obito's sacrifice be in vain. I sprung up, shielding my face with an arm and bolted forward, streaming chakra into my muscles, sending them into overdrive.

The walls shattered spectacularly as I ran—so loudly I thought my eardrums would burst—folding in around me, closing in closer and closer as I hurtled toward the opening.

All at once I was there, the light fiercely blinding, diving from the tunnel in a blur as it finally fell into itself with an ear-splitting roar. Victory pulsed through me for one glorious second, and then my eyes adjusted and all I registered was red red red as I plummeted downwards.

"Oh, you have to be kidding me!" I cried out, noting that this was not my bijū's red, "I did _not_ just do that for nothing!" The unsettling and oh-so-familiar stench of blood slammed into me, and I gagged prematurely, bracing myself as I fell, tucking into a cannonball.

Horror filled me as I splashed into it, the foul taste of iron slipping into my mouth despite how tightly I'd sealed it. It flooded up my nose, and I released a psychotic swear 'underwater'. I flailed beneath the surface, attempting to keep 'ninja mode' on, until I got the hell out of Dodge, at any rate. I wasted no time putting my swimming lessons to good practice, gliding upwards—what I prayed was up, at least.

I proved to be correct, thankfully, and broke the surface, dry-heaving and gasping for precious air. Sweet Jesus, did this ever smell rank. As I tried to blink the blood from my eyes—operative word 'tried'—I channelled chakra first into my hands, using them to pull myself up, then into my knees and feet to ensure I'd remain… _blood-walking_.

Yeah, I had a lot of adjectives for that, none of them wholesome.

_How many people died to create this? _I wondered, chills running through me, smearing the gross excess liquid from my eyes.

What I saw turned the blood in my veins to nothing but rushes of icy fear, heartbeat going from zero to one hundred so fast it really might've burst from my chest this time. My breath left me in one shaky exhale.

What was this…?

There was no real light source, as far as I could tell; instead the atmosphere seemed to be lit with a deep crimson, fog rolling across the blood ocean in misty waves. Boulders stuck out from the blood, dotting the landscape in scarred, ruined hunks.

_**He**__ d__**i**__e__**d **__**un**__de__**r**__ o__**n**__e __**lik**__e __**t**__h__**a**__t._

I took a step back unconsciously.

A bevy of the same twisted, grotesque trees like the ones I'd first seen upon finding myself in my new body arched upwards into the limitless black sky—if it could really be called that—their size and formation mocking the beautiful ones I'd seen in Konoha. Blood sluiced down them in rhythmic rivulets, as though hearts were beating somewhere above inside the gaping void.

_A__**ll **__**d**__e__**ad, he**__ k__**il**__le__**d th**__em __**al**__l._

_(He's a monster._

**So are you.)**

The sense of déjà vu was overpowering, unadulterated dread raining over me, coating me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes; the lukewarm blood running down my skin didn't help the sensation.

Squinting through the red haze, I saw _something_ moving in the distance, so insanely enormous in scope that my mind couldn't comprehend it. No, it didn't move so much as it churned lazily, if that made any sense, winding upwards and around in immense snaking motions.

I followed it with my eyes, glancing skywards. The leviathan's massive appendages were _everywhere_, no beginning or end in sight, no clues as to what manner of monstrosity this was.

_Eldritch abomination,_ the Lovecraft fan in me supplied unhelpfully.

I stayed very, very still, my only goal to go unnoticed by the (presumably) man-eating kaijū. The sound of something grinding together harshly came to my ears.

Breathe in, breathe out, _think,_ don't panic. It was so easy to say, less so to put into practice.

Firstly, I wanted to know where here was, and secondly, I wanted to know how to _get out_. To put it lightly, everything about this place spelled trouble, and trouble seemed to have heat-seeking missiles constantly targeting me.

"You're late," a voice I recognized from the cave-in said to me, a cold statement.

I spun to face them, the monster forgotten, startled. At the same time, relief washed over me. They'd lived, thank god. Also, who gave a crap if I was late? Late to what? Untold doom and misfortune? In case they hadn't noticed, that was kind of my established thing.

"You're alright, thank goodn—" My words died in my throat when I saw Obito—_alive,_ my heart sung in joy for a moment—not dead or zombified—casually laying back on one of the rocks, fogged-up goggles obscuring his eyes. Another boy sat back on his haunches on an adjacent rock. Clad in blue, a mask, and silver hair, I realized a part of me recognized him. I'd seen him somewhere before. His left eye was a gory, empty socket, blood oozing down his face in a parody of tears.

My eyes widened, the medic in me wanting to rush over and do something about it, but the wary part of me won and told me to stay just where I was—because how had they escaped? And Obito, he—he was dead, wasn't he? I'd already accepted that, hadn't I? He _was_ dead as much as it hurt, so how could he be here?

"Well, how are you here?" Obito asked me nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

I flinched hard, sweat beading on my brow. Did I say any of that out loud? How did he know about that?

"You're usually punctual, and not so dull-minded," the other boy said, good eye narrowing as he stared at me critically, seemingly unbothered by his missing eye. "How disappointing," he scoffed.

His words, however _wrong_ they sounded, stung. The arrogant little shit's opinion actually _mattered_ to me. A lightbulb went off in my head.

"Kakashi…?" I spoke the name, unbidden. Something wasn't adding up, Lovecraftian horror and chthonic scenery aside, but it was difficult to think of what. I could not pull my full attention away from them. I gaped at them, transfixed. These weren't the teammates that Rin knew, that _I _knew as our memories mashed together in a chaotic storm.

He cocked his head at me, expression all scorn, like I was a colossal idiot.

I shrunk into myself, suddenly feeling very stupid and very small, while Jenn's voice shrieked at me to put him in his place.

"But, you—you saved me. That was your voice!" I stepped forward against my screaming instincts—the fog growing thicker—clenching my fists in desperation and anger, feeling embarrassed tears pool in my eyes. No no no, none of that, no crying in front of disrespectful children.

"Why would _I_ save _you_?" Kakashi said severely, glaring at me, "a _selfish_, _useless_ girl like you. Are you even worth saving?"

I gasped, willing the tears not to fall. The pain in my chest grew with each word. I felt myself begin to shiver. But Kakashi's my teammate, my _friend_; we've been through so much together. Does he really think of me like that?

"I'm not," I refuted weakly, hating how my voice wavered. "I'm _not!_" I repeated, louder, fixing him with my own heated glare. To my mortification, I realized the tears had spilled over. I wasn't useless!

"You _are_," Kakashi sneered, rocking forward on his heels to look down on me (as if he wasn't already).

My shivering grew worse, cold sweat breaking out all over me. N-no, he was wrong… I _wasn't_ useless. What happened on that mission… it-it wasn't my fault, no…

_I__**t **__**w**__a__**s**__._

My breathing sped up when I realized I didn't actually believe that.

Kannabi was my fault, wasn't it?

_**Ye**__s, u__**se**__l__**e**__s__**s**__, __**se**__lfis__**h**__, __**all**__ y__**o**__u__**r**__ f__**aul**__t. _

The ground rumbled as the great beast suddenly drew closer.

I shut my eyes, the monster a distant thought, gripping my head with badly trembling hands, "I am not selfish!" Rin and Jenn had both been good people; sure, maybe they'd had selfish moments, done some things they regretted, but it didn't make them horrible people. I wasn't a horrible person (but I am, and I know it).

Obito sat up, crossing his arms over his knees, relaxed as ever. "You don't think so?" he asked curiously, a bitter laugh catching on the tail-end of his question. "You don't think confessing to Bakashi as soon as I was dead wasn't selfish? I loved you, Rin, but you really are an awful person." He pushed his goggles up, blood pouring down his face from his empty eye socket, the one _I'd_ removed.

Bile rose in my throat. I left him there to die, and selfishly let my desire to die with nothing left unsaid take over me. I truly was… _disgusting_. It was crushing to admit. How could I ever have dared to confess after that?

I _was_ as terrible as they said.

"In the end, even after you'd tried so hard, you were _still_ weak," Kakashi said, malice evident in his voice. He jumped from his perch, landing skillfully on the blood with nary a ripple. "I still had to rescue you."

"To pick up the pieces," Obito continued with a cold, cruel frown, his disappointment drilling holes into my tattered soul. "Forever weak and pathetic."

"We would've lived if not for you," the silver-haired boy accused, rage lighting his features.

My heart stopped. "We?" I echoed, unimaginably fearful of his response. Kakashi couldn't be dead! He wasn't dead when I—

"You left me there, dying of chakra exhaustion." Kakashi began to walk towards me. "You didn't feel me, right? You didn't even spare me a backwards glance before you ran like a coward."

My mind raced as I tried to recall if he'd really been there, but why wouldn't he have been? He'd rescued me from Kiri, and when I couldn't, I'd… I'd used him to…

"You used him to kill yourself," Obito snapped at me, disdain warping his normally kind expression. He'd never looked at me so hatefully.

"It's a good thing I'm dead, Rin," Kakashi stalked closer, close enough that I could see the pulpy mess that had been his eye. "Can you imagine if I'd had to live with the guilt?"

Spikes became clear as the behemoth came into focus, towering over us.

"No, no, no…" I mumbled blankly to myself, openly crying, frozen in place with chattering teeth. (As if saying no would change the hard truth.)

"Your disregard for life is so sickening," Kakashi told me, raising his hand, sounding both fascinated and disgusted with me.

My mind broke. "NO!" I screamed shrilly, eyes flying madly between the two of them. "That's not how the story goes! You can't be dead! It wasn't my fault!" I sobbed. If I'd known, I would've gone back, I would've—_please believe me!_

I heard a sinister chuckle and jumped back, skidding across the blood, speechless from what I was seeing. Obito was gone, and in his place stood a scarred man with mismatched red and purple eyes that I recognized: the once masked man from the Fourth War Arc, Madara's partner. The presence of such an evil man sent me backing up, preparing to run. Why was he here?

"Oh, you don't recognize me?" he asked darkly, "then, how can you know the story? A worthless girl like you didn't even pay attention."

"What…?" I found myself asking back, breathless. White spots dotted my vision.

_"Obito, did you launch the plan without even sealing the Eight and Nine-Tails?"_

I recoiled as though someone had slammed a sledgehammer into me, head in my hands, stumbling backwards. I choked on my sobs, unable to stop hyperventilating. He was Obito? That couldn't be true. That man was responsible for so many deaths, had killed so many people without remorse all for some idiotic plan I couldn't remember. Obito was dead, he couldn't be… He would _never_ do those things, I was sure of it.

"Ultimately, you're nothing more than a worthless girl who couldn't be bothered," Kakashi stated coldly, using the scarred man's—because _he_ is_ not_ Obito—words. His hand lit up, lightning sparking dangerously, the high-pitched screech of a thousand birds condemning me at once.

Terror beyond terror, the likes of which I'd never known, paralyzed me, the sight and noise of my greatest fear unmistakable. Kakashi charged so quickly my eyes couldn't keep up, and in a split second, he had me by my injured shoulder, poised to strike. Chidori was blinding, and so, so loud. I was frozen, unable to even lift a finger against him to attempt to save my life.

"**After all, only a monster can love a monster."**

A giant yellow eye snapped open behind him, the true monster unveiling itself, illuminating the darkness and obliterating the fog.

I screamed one long, piercing note as my beloved teammate brought his hand closer, the sparks singeing my skin, tiny plumes of smoke rising where the flesh hissed and crackled.

"**This is what you wanted, isn't it?" **Kakashi asked me rhetorically, his voice and the scarred man's melding into one, overshadowed by the vindictive boom of the demon.

"**This is what you deserve!" **

I awoke, very much unaware of the fact, shooting up and screaming bloody murder as I threw myself out of the way, rolling and thudding against a wall, the last image in my mind that of Chidori scant inches away from plunging itself into my chest for the second time.

My head spun from the sudden movement, every part of my body whining at me in protest. _Everything_ hurt—a stark of reminder of the first time I'd 'woken up', when I thought about it. That shook me to the core. I opened my crazed eyes, panting roughly, confused by the sound of my colliding against something and the feel of peeling wallpaper. A sticky dampness coated my cheeks and my eyes stung like I'd spent hours crying nonstop.

Without thought, I raised a shaking, twitching hand to my face to wipe it, and was surprised to find it covered in bandages and smelling very faintly of some kind of salve, maybe arnica or aloe vera (_not the best choice,_ my addled 'Jenrin' mind prattled on). The clinical side of me kicked in, most definitely saving me from any kind of breakdown. Someone had dressed my wounds with some kind of skill. _Not top-notch,_ I thought, examining them closely, yet it was passable. I formulated a plan to redress them and heal myself as soon as I knew where I was and who'd done it. It could wait until I had answers, until I was safe.

_Keep calm, keep calm, keep calm,_ I repeated the mantra in my head as wariness and fear began to well up in me. There were dense swirls of mist everywhere.

That meant one thing.

Was this real? My fearful eyes darted back and forth as I forced myself to breathe more quietly, anxiety gnawing at my sanity.

I pressed myself to what I quickly realized was a wall, surveying the room I'd found myself in. It was… simple with feminine touches, a beat-up dresser against the opposite wall—next to the door, an important fact—a desk with a couple picture frames, some scrolls, and a brush and an inkwell, an old, rickety cabinet, and a plain futon I'd apparently made a tangled mess out of. Silvery morning light poured in from the single, cracked window. I could hear birds beginning to chirp outside. (Door and window—two escape routes, if I needed them.)

No blood, no scarred man, no crazy Kakashi trying to kill me. Maybe this was legit? Why the mist, then? I knew it was his, it _had_ to be his, and it _was_ doing something, though I couldn't tell exactly what yet.

And then I saw _it_; how could I have missed it my first go-around? It was almost like my brain had filtered it out. I made a strangled noise of surprise, vaguely aware that my voice was hoarse in the waking world.

The futon, where someone had tucked me up in to recover, was covered in salmon pink coral.

Yes, _coral_, of all things. It was so _incredibly_ out of place.

It grew up from the floor in random patterns, originating where my hands would've been if I'd slept on my back. It covered the walls and the ceiling maddeningly enough.

It made _no_ sense.

I tilted my head and blinked twice in an exaggerated fashion, like doing so would somehow make the bizarre substance disappear. It didn't, of course, and I knew without a doubt it'd come from me.

Or more specifically, the demon in my belly.

Uncertainty rose in me at the thought of him. An angry fire began to burn in my gut. _This_ was _his_ fault.

"Is this real?" I whispered harshly to myself, uncaring that I was talking to myself yet again. After all of the insanity I'd witnessed, I was finally ready to believe something had answered me before, and I was somewhat sure that it had been… not speaking to me, no, that wasn't right. It was as if Other Rin's instincts and memories had been trying to impose themselves on me and I'd consistently denied them. I hadn't even known what a kunai was until they'd eventually forced me to understand.

_No genjutsu. _

Just like that, I was certain I was back in the real world. I was _awake_, and—not counting the freaky semi-mind-meld—that inhumane, utterly sick bastard of a demon was responsible for _everything_ I'd seen. He'd tried his damnedest to make me _relive_ Other Rin's suicide.

The mist grew thicker in tandem with my anger.

Any grief-filled thoughts I might've had about my parents—_Mom, will you be okay? My cats, oh god, my two cats, who'll take care of them now?_—my friends, my shattered dreams and goals—no matter how pathetically small they'd been—my lost _life_, all of it died in the face of my rage.

I had no time for crushing sadness or self-pity; they were poor motivators. Rage and fear, however, can be incredibly powerful, and I knew that on some level. As Jenn, frustrated rage had usually tended to be the driving force behind my successes. I could use it to focus if it didn't overwhelm me.

But I digress.

Pure fury coursed through my veins, any other feelings evaporating against the all-encompassing hatred I felt towards him. I saw red—the phrase, not literally, _thank god_—and flooded chakra into my hands, dimly aware that this was a bad idea. I had no clue what state I was in or if it would trigger the monster's return, but I was beyond _pissed_; it did not matter at that moment. Honestly, some reckless, unthinking part of me _wanted_ to face him to make him pay for torturing me.

Mostly, I really, really wanted to hit something.

_You don't know who's here, do not hit a goddamned wall!_ the rational part of my conscience warned.

Working brain cells still in effect, check. I grudgingly allowed the chakra I'd built to disperse, locking my jaw, teeth grinding together.

_I hate him, I hate him, I HATE HIM!_ I screamed internally, unable to focus on anything else. Gah, but being angry would just bring him back, wouldn't it? _Fuuuck._ I'm not even allowed to have emotions?

_A shinobi must never show any weakness._

"That's great, that's just great," I heatedly whispered to myself, unfortunately more than a little maniacal.

I started to pace back and forth as my heart sped up, pangs of warning pain going unnoticed, clenching and unclenching my fists. I snarled through my teeth, resisting the insane urge to start yanking my hair, and abruptly slammed my foot into a section of coral when my fury hit its breaking point.

Instead of a satisfying crunch, pain lanced through my foot, causing me to fall back on my butt as the rest of my injuries all complained at once. Oh, naturally it just _had_ to be durable, and of course I was too physically weak to break it. Ugh.

My rage went from over-the-top boiling to steaming as the pain caught up to me. My weary and very likely still recovering heart gave a final _cut this out or I'm cutting out on YOU _throb. Okay, clearly this temper tantrum needed to end for my physical health's sake. I sat, blowing a slow breath out, and taking a deep one in. I repeated my breathing exercise (hey, turns out therapy isn't totally useless) until I felt sufficiently calmer, though my anger simmered just beneath.

This state of mind wasn't good to keep; the Kyūbi took over when this happened to Naruto, yeah? That's not happening to me _ever_ again. True, I'd been thrown off my game—I later found the severe understatement gut-bustingly hilarious—but I couldn't let it consume me.

Even then, I couldn't let go of it; if I did, the exhaustion plaguing me would overtake me and I'd be in a deeper hole than I already was (because the hole I'm in isn't _quite_ deep enough yet, sigh). I could feel it tugging at my aching body, and more than anything I wished I had the luxury to crawl back into that dingy, coral-covered futon and try to pretend this was all some awful nightmare, but I knew better.

_Who wouldn't after all that? _I huffed inaudibly, my shoulders rolling sharply. I folded my knees under me, muscles tense. My suspicious, hard eyes took in the room once more. The mist was nearly chest level when I knelt. Stupid mist.

Besides, I wasn't sure if sleeping would put the bijū's strange mist back into effect on me.

I saw a mirror to my left.

_This is probably a bad idea, but I'm doing it anyway. _

I hissed as I hauled myself to my feet. I walked over to it, unable to stop myself from flinching at my reflection. Even after all I'd gone through, after all the proof I'd been given, I still deeply wished to see Jenn. It didn't matter who I'd wanted to see; I would never see her face in any mirror again.

Was Jenn's face my face? Was Rin's face my face?

Regardless of what or who I wanted to believe, the one looking back at me was mine now.

Who am I now?

I swallowed thickly and pinched the bridge of my nose, if only to stop myself from crying again.

"_Forever weak and pathetic,"_ Puppet Obito's words rang in my ears. The hatred roiling in my stomach flared back to life. How _dare_ he use my best friend's image against me like that? I resolved to make his life hell the next time we met.

"No," I quietly said to the memory, lips downturned severely.

My eyebrows drew together, stony anger turning my expression into a harsh scowl. Brown hair, brown eyes, purple rectangles, _my face. _

I would have to accept it one day, but I steadfastly refused to let Jenn disappear, even if this wasn't her (_my_) face.

But I couldn't dwell on that.

I gave myself a lightning-fast once over, noting with a cringe the sheer amount of bandages wrapped around me. I was wearing a grey sleeping robe that had to belong to an adult woman based on the length, bagginess, and how little it fit me everywhere. The skin peeking out between the sea of white was healthy and clean, as was my hair, which I was truly thankful for. I would not be forgetting any aspect of blood for the rest of my life (this life). The purple markings on my cheeks healed the same way my skin did, it seemed.

Now, who'd taken me in?

Reality, _actual reality_, began to trickle back in. After clashing with… _him_—and _winning_; the monster could go rot for all I cared—I'd met an older guy, yeah, a farmer, and… I'd told him I was on my period… before fainting. _Awesome._ Oh god, _why_. My face heated up, and I resisted the powerful urge to start dropping f-bombs as loudly as I could.

I shut my eyes again, feeling a headache building behind my knotted brows. However, I didn't have long to contemplate my idiocy.

A terribly pained moan came to my ears, snapping me to attention. A sense of foreboding crawled over me, goosebumps breaking out across my skin. I crept over to the door soundlessly despite the aged wooden flooring—without effort and not allowing myself to be shocked by it—for once not cursing the ninja abilities I'd inherited. I put my hands on it and took in a shaky breath. _Do everything as silently as you can, _I told myself, attempting to steel my nerves.

I slid the door open, disturbed by the sight of the dense mist spilling out into the hallway like I was in such cheap horror movie with a bad fog machine.

…Y'know, I've watched this movie before and it ends with a giant machete shoved through my chest.

…

As sad as it is, I half-expected my shinobi instincts to tell me I wasn't in any danger, that it was silly to fear masked psychopath killers that weren't real (in this world, at least), therefore when they didn't… well, I knew _something_ was off.

With that in mind, I tentatively stuck half of my head out, keeping low to the ground. I dunno, it seemed like the smart thing to do without the Rin-stincts guiding me. I wasn't prepared for what I saw, though.

The farmer I'd met out in the woods was slumped over in the hallway twitching, head lolling. Tears rolled down his face in a slow but constant stream, and he released another agonized groan.

A seizure?

The iryō-nin in me took over regardless if I wanted it to or not. I couldn't _not_ help a helpless civilian. He'd done me no harm—as far as I knew. I shot to my feet and ran to him, falling to my knees beside him as soon as I'd closed the distance between us. The mist parted and swirled around us lazily.

"Sir? Sir!" I called to him, gingerly turning his head to face me, noting the way his pupils dilated and contracted, seemingly without stimulus. As I inspected him further, it didn't appear to be a seizure or stroke, and I became more and more uncertain of what to do.

Oh, right, I should know a few diagnostic jutsu. Damn, the Rin side of me would kick in easily and fall away just as easily once I started to freak out or realize I'd done something that went against my usual self.

I swore and tried to concentrate. Diagnostic jutsu, diagnostic jutsu—think Rin thoughts!

_Reach out with your chakra to connect to his pathway system._

The lumpy brain feeling untangled itself as I accepted it, and what I needed to do made sense. "Okay," I nodded and placed my hands on him, letting 'chakra memory' (the same concept as muscle memory), as it were, take over for me.

I barely had to search for anything, the result was so immediate. This guy's system was completely out of whack. I needed to normalize his chakra flow by introducing my own, which meant this was… Oh, come on, I _know_ this.

_Genjutsu. _

"Right," I said, readying a tiny burst of chakra so I wouldn't kill the poor man.

_Are you sure?_

My eyes widened. What…? My hands went limp and I slowly backed off. Did I want to do this? I'm… I'm supposed to help him. I mean, he helped me, I owed him that much.

But… what if he told someone about me? Right now, I was safe enough and no one else knew about me, sans him. I don't think I need to reiterate it, but I'm sure as hell not going back to Konoha. What do you think would happen if a dead girl showed up at the front gate, as the jinchūriki of another village's bijū, no less? Goddamn, I'm literally a living cause for _war_. They'd lock my ass up and experiment on me. And didn't someone have mind-reading powers or something? They'd find out I wasn't even the—normal? Real? What?—Nohara Rin. They'd find out _everything_.

Ice threaded through me as the negatives piled on. Could I really just leave this guy here, trapped in a genjutsu? If I did, I could escape, get my hands on some makeup and hair-dye and try my hardest to be free of this nightmare.

I couldn't go back. I could never go back. After all, I was the reason that Kaka—_no!_ I shook my head violently, hair whipping my face, leaving it uncomfortably itchy. I slapped my cheeks with both hands until they were red and stinging. I can't think about that, not here, not now. There wasn't _any_ time to break down and cry over that subject.

_I have to keep going. _

"What the hell do I do?" I asked myself, unknowingly gripping my throbbing chest. I had to help this guy, right? That would be the right thing to do even if he hadn't saved me.

**Kill them,** he growled, the words skewering through my brain before he was gone in the same instant he'd spoken. The cool mist licked at my ankles as if to signal his fleeting presence.

You know when someone touches the One Ring, how, for one brief but incredibly powerful moment—until they pull away—_if_ they can pull away—the Eye of Sauron wreathed in blinding, never-ending hellfire appears before them, a godly, unrelenting force, whispering consuming, seductive thoughts that burn them up from the inside out.

The bijū's words had that incomprehensible, intense effect on me, so vivid and tempting, that for a second, I found myself considering it. Luckily, he was gone quickly and I had the mental fortitude to pull myself out of it. That, or he was currently weaker. Could it have something to do with the time of day? I didn't have time to dwell on it.

(I arrogantly preferred to believe I was strong.)

"No!" I cried out, tearing open the robe I was wearing, my right hand automatically going to my uncovered abdomen. I glanced down, choosing not to contemplate my complete nudity underneath—my entirely different body—and the overabundance of bandages. The seal was fully visible, yet he wasn't… _conversing_—yeah, let's go with that—with me, and no hint of his malevolent chakra appeared around me.

I sighed and retied the robe, shoulders sagging in brief relief. _Looks like we aren't having another showdown._ I had no inclination to think 'yet', because it merely came down to a matter of time. I wouldn't be able to avoid him forever.

Seriously, I hope I don't have to meet him in a sewer. Poor Naruto.

I frowned, still, and carefully made my way around the man splayed about the hallway. He'd said 'them'. Unless he was messing with me, there was more than one person in this house. The demon had proven he was more than willing to manipulate me, but his desire for self-preservation was infinitely higher if our previous encounter was anything to go by.

I came to the conclusion the mist was his version of a powerful genjutsu, one he was currently using for self-defence, and by proxy, he _was _helping me with it. He wasn't stupid, I was loathed to admit.

"What do I do?" I repeated in a tired whisper. Chances were this other person was also in his genjutsu.

I had a choice to make; I could help them and risk myself and everything I'd done to survive thus far, or I could do the selfish thing—what he'd accused me of—and… _leave them. _

_T__**a**__k__**e**__ w__**ha**__t __**y**__ou m__**u**__st an__**d**__ f__**l**__e__**e**__._

Neither option sounded good to me, but the smart option, the one that granted me freedom and a higher possibility of survival was… I bit my lip, guilt coiling nastily in my stomach. Could I really rob these innocent, unknowing people blind, all for my own sake? Every part of me, Rin and Jenn and whatever I was in between, _knew_ it was wrong. Why, then, were my instincts telling me to do so?

_**Kill them,**_** burn it all,** echoed in my head, becoming louder and louder as his ice-cold voice ricocheted back and forth. His snarl affected me similar to a pendulum, and my eyeballs wanted to roll in time with the way they echoed in my ears. God no, was _he_ actively influencing me?

"_No,_" I said back to him, clenching my fists. My glare could've burned away the wall in front of me. "I am _not_ going to kill them!" Was it in my power to slam the door on him as I had before?

**Don't be an idiot— **the bijū tried to reply, but was promptly cut off, his voice sounding quieter and suddenly much farther away.

A bitter laugh escaped me. Ah, he'd tried to kill me before and was now interested in my well-being? Drop-dead _hilarious. _I snorted to myself. Really, even now I was making dumb jokes? As if I had time for puns. So it seems whatever he's doing with the mist is limiting him. Huh. That was my hope, at least. Maybe the seal was affecting him too.

I wouldn't have a straight answer for a long time; there were just too many factors to consider concerning my 'roommate'. And here I'd always wanted Claire, despite her silliness.

_Tough shit,_ Jenn's voice barked.

I sighed at my poor luck again, and made my way to the next room, opening the door with more force and less finesse. It didn't matter; these poor folks would be bound in his genjutsu for god knows how long (and I'm not letting them out, _you demented, awful person_).

It was another bedroom similar to the first: sparse, nearly bare, only decorated with the essentials and… _oh._ A picture of a smiling older woman sat atop a table, surrounded by burnt out incense and a small vase of wilted flowers, likely all he could afford.

_His wife. _

My chest constricted and guilt rose in my throat like bile. I—I was going to do this to these people, who'd only been kind to me.

_A shinobi must always put the mission first._

"Mission…" I muttered. Yeah, this was a mission, wasn't it? A lifelong mission, one I _had_ to _succeed_ at. I would do this, I had to do this. It's all in vain if I fail, their sacrifices would be in vain—

_Don't_ think about it. _Stop._

"Alright," I said to myself, nodding fervently for good measure, as though it would convince me further.

(What I'm doing is _so wrong_.)

I strode back to the room I'd woken up in, shielding my eyes from the sight of the kind, old man stuck in what had to be partially _my_ genjutsu—the mist centered around my form, more or less, following me as I moved, although it seemed to have spread out quite far.

I scowled at the incriminating coral, unsure of how to dispose of it. I was too weak to break it and there was no way I had enough chakra to cut it all down. It was so sturdy and _sticky_, in terms of what it felt like chakra-wise, if you get me, I wasn't even sure if my jutsu _could_ destroy it.

_Burn it down,_ my bijū'd said. "Fuck," I breathed aloud, knowing he was right. I would be an idiot not to burn it down, and killing them would tie up any loose ends. Sweat instantly covered my forehead and I swallowed the sick feeling building at the back of my throat.

Oh god, would I go that far? _Could _I go that far?

The place behind my bellybutton _shifted_, and I felt more than heard him murmur his assent. At that point, I did start dropping f-bombs, frantically pacing back and forth.

If I went through with it, it would make me a _monster._ I was supposed to help people, _heal_ people, not _kill_ them. I'd never signed up to kill anyone and Other Rin had only signed up to kill people in the name of her village (oh, because that's _so_ much better; brainwashing children much?).

"A monster," I said vacantly, stroking a picture frame of a couple happily posing together, the woman with brilliant red hair. She reminded me of someone. The man looked like a younger version of the farmer. His son, his _dead_ son if the same small shrine in his memory was anything to go by. This family had lost so much and had still chosen to help me, and I was considering becoming a true monster in order to further myself.

Am I a monster?

But I was already one regardless of choice, right? That's what being a jinchūriki is. Naruto had been treated so horribly if my memory was correct, and he'd been nothing but a small child, not capable of being a monster, yet people viewed him as such anyway.

No matter how compassionate and empathetic Other Rin had been, she'd been made a monster the moment they'd sealed the demon into her, and she'd chosen to die.

"Am I a monster?" I asked genuinely, a manic giggle dusting my question. I pulled my hand back from the picture frame, eyes catching my left wrist.

The bracelet wasn't there.

I'd—I'd promised to wear it forever and it wasn't _there._ It felt like a physical blow, and I willed tears not to come to my eyes. Did they steal it? No, why would they? It didn't look like it had tons of monetary value; perhaps they took it off me to clean it. I _had_ to find it. It was Obito's precious gift to me—to Other Rin—and I'd never forgive myself for losing it.

I started to rifle through the woman's things in hopes of finding it, only stopping when I found a knapsack I could use to nab anything useful. As I went, I dumped things into it—clothes, spools of thread and needles to sew with, the tiny amount of money she'd hidden away, untouched makeup—I thanked my lucky stars—her brush, ink, and scrolls—_write out some storage seals once you've left, _my instincts instructed—but no bracelet, not in her room.

Despair grabbed at me at the concept of losing it, but… Obito… Obito never thought Other Rin—I—was a monster. I conjured up the image of his smiling face, of all the encouraging words he'd said to me, even as he was dying. He'd never once thought of me as horrible no matter what my bijū desperately wanted me to believe. And Naruto wasn't a monster; he'd worked so hard to make people acknowledge him, and above all, he was a _hero._

I forced myself to accept this answer—at least until I was safe and could think more deeply on it. Determination lit in me. I shouldered the bag and soldiered on to the farmer's room, refusing to look at him.

No, I wasn't enough of a monster to burn their house to the ground while they lay trapped inside it, and no, I didn't think I could be a hero like Naruto, not with what I was doing, not with how weak I was.

However, these were all thoughts for another time. I had a job to do.

Quickly, I went through the farmer's—god, I don't even know his name—drawers and cabinets, a weight crushing my chest when I didn't find the bracelet there either. It ate away at me. Another stab of guilt shot through me when I discovered his stash of carefully bound, uh, cash?

_Ry__ō._

My hand hovered above it as I hesitated, utterly guilty. I was about to take everything he had, this small amount of savings. There's a special place in hell being reserved for me right about now.

"Damnit, damnit, _damnit!_" I swore, shoving it into my bag like it was burning me to touch it. "The mission comes first," I tried repeating to myself, hating how totally moronic it sounded. Try justifying it all you want, where I come from, there's nothing _right_ about what I'm doing. (If we're talking about Old Earth; damn, this is probably old hat in Konoha.) In any case, it was likely I'd have to get used to stealing.

From his room, I explored the rest of the house, adding more and more to my heavying knapsack as I went. I made sure to grab as much non-perishable food as I could and didn't skimp on the bandages and various salves lying around. I would check the rest of the farm for more useful items after I left the house.

The final room was something of a shock to me. It appeared to be an addition to the house, a workshop of some sort. I wasn't expecting to see what I saw inside.

It was the woman from the picture, facedown at her work table amongst a sea of scrolls, paper, and ink smudged everywhere. An empty ink bottle lay spilt across the table, ruining most of her work. Her knowledge of—what? _F__ūinjutsu._ Yes, that—wasn't what surprised me; it was her long braid of fiery, ruby red hair. From the looks of it, she'd tried to dye it a coppery orange, but the dye job was just awful—trust me, I know a bad dye job better than most—from the way the colour broke through the dye, and her roots unmistakably a vivid crimson.

She was—she reminded me of—

"_Kushina-san!" I rise from my seated position to cheerfully greet her, being mindful of the scrolls piled around me. _

"'_Afternoon, Rin-chan!" she returns with even more cheer, gleefully presenting a basket of food. Her grin is so infectious, and sometimes I can't believe how loving she is towards me, like I'm one of her children. Her gorgeous red hair sways on the warm summer wind. It's always so eye-catching. _

_I can't help but blush when she notices me looking and comments on it, "Aha, after all this time and you still like it so much?" Her eyes sparkle and she pulls me—strong-arms me, really—into a crushing hug. "Ah, you're my good girl, Rin-chan!"_

"_I'm glad, Kushina-san," I manage to wheeze out from her bone-crushing hug, hearing Minato-sensei chuckle somewhere in the distance. _

_Kushina-san lets go of me with a slight pout, holding me by my shoulders. "Aw, you're never going to call me on__ē-chan, are you?"_

_I stutter, "Ah, well, maybe—" Kushina-san is such an incredible kunoichi; she's practically up there with Tsunade-sama. It's hard for me to bring myself to speak to her like that. _

"_Stop teasing my student!" Minato-sensei calls with amusement from where he's sparring with Kakashi and Obito. _

_Kushina-san waves him off, laughing to herself. She puts her basket down and leans over my seal-work, eyes flying over it with interest. Ah, oh no, those are failed. Medical seals have a tendency to be very difficult. I don't want to look like a failure in front of Kushina-san. _

"_Looks like you're having a bit of trouble with these," she says, pushing her shining hair back over her shoulder, and I nod mutely because there's no escaping her scrutiny. My cheeks burn brighter. _

_If she notices, she doesn't say anything. "Well, we can work them out together, no problem!" Kushina-san grins and plops down beside me. "Let's finish them before lunch!"_

_I can only grin back at her, her attitude pulling me out of any ashamed feelings. "Y-yes! Thank you, Kushina-san!"_

_Kushina-san may not be a part of our team in name, but she really is in my heart. _

My face fell, the guilt so close to halting me completely. The woman in front of me was one of Kushina-san's beloved Uzumaki kin, albeit unknown, and I was still going to steal from her. Did I truly have no shame?

**Do it.**

Of course, he was _right. _I needed to do this for myself.I shut my eyes against the headache pounding there. The more these next-level, Thane Krios-style memories hammered into my head, the more confused about myself I became.

Was… was I really Jenn in the first place? Did she ever really exist?

"No, stop," I said to myself, needing to hear any kind of confirmation. Jenn existed. She had to have, once. Hell, she existed _yesterday._

Why am I allowing myself to think like this?

I worked around the room, snatching another brush, a few more bottles of ink, and some extra scrolls. She had a few herbs growing in the windowsill, aloe vera—as I suspected earlier—and valerian, so I grabbed those too. It was better than nothing, and using Other Rin's memories and abilities, I could probably make something worthwhile out of them.

For whatever reason, she also had my stuff. My torn apart clothes were nowhere to be found, but all of my pouches, holster, shoes, and remaining weapons were laid out on a counter across the room. There were only two kunai, maybe a dozen senbon, and two vials of an unknown liquid. I was disturbed Other Rin hadn't fully exhausted her supply against the Kiri-nin. I didn't want to ask myself what she'd been thinking as I was sure I'd get another barrage of Thane Krios-esque memories (for those that don't know, flawless eidetic memory able to be recalled with perfect clarity; not fun times, and I couldn't control when they came either, unlike him).

My bag was fairly heavy now and judging by the sunlight, dawn had broken while I'd been ransacking the house. The demon's mist appeared to be abating, so I knew it was time to leave. I shucked off the robe I was wearing, pulling on the Uzumaki woman's slightly better fitted civilian clothing: a plainly coloured, high-necked kimono-style top to hide my extensive scar that I belted to my body with a wrap-belt…thing—obi? I don't know—the Narutoverse has stranger clothes, okay?—loose, capri-length pants, and my blue ninja sandals, still encrusted in some blood. I made sure to keep all my pouches and weapons hidden.

I scrunched my nose. I'd have to clean my shoes more thoroughly.

I needed time to apply the foundation I'd found, of which I was running out of—I wasn't even sure if the colour would match my skin, but anything to cover the purple rectangles was a godsend. I'd have to do it once I was off and hidden out of sight, and before I reached whatever town I happened to come across.

There was unfortunately little I could do to cover the bandages wrapped around me, but hopefully I'd be able to heal myself soon. I looked like a walking freak-show due to the amount.

I walked to the front door, ignoring the helpless sounds the farmer and his daughter-in-law made throughout the small house with a heavy heart. I felt his nervous discomfort in the back of my mind; he wanted nothing short of complete destruction of the house. Well, not gonna happen, evil-demon-possessing-me.

I opened the door and light flooded into the hallway. As I looked out at the outside world, I hesitated, like crossing the threshold meant something irreversible and terrifying.

I already knew I couldn't go back. I could only go forward from now on, though I didn't know where that forward would lead me. I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply through my nose and blowing out with my mouth.

Where would I go? What would I do? What would my life be like as an honest to god dead and reincarnated person and missing-nin?

I had no answers, and I wouldn't get any by remaining here. I'd made my choice, and now I had to stick with it.

With a distinct sense of grimness, I stepped out into the soothing morning sun.

In the end, I never did find the bracelet Obito gave me.

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><p><strong>三<strong>

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><p>The farther I walked from the house, the more the fog lessened, like my bijū understood that we were no longer in imminent danger of being found out. I'm sure he'd have preferred we killed them both and burned it all to the ground, but there was no way I would ever commit such a monstrous thing. I prayed the two would say nothing about me (and the coral), and if they did report me for theft (to what authorities I couldn't guess), hopefully they'd simply be ignored. The coral would be the damning factor, but there wasn't anything more I could do. When they described me, who would believe it was a girl come back from the dead?<p>

No one. Not even in this crazy world where people spit fire and demons were sealed into babies would anyone believe such a tale. This world had rules, and I'd have to learn to play by them.

As I walked down the road, gravel crunching beneath my shoes and every part of me aching, all I could think of was what I left behind. I'd left Jennifer Ryder and all that came with her behind in another wold when I made a monumentally stupid decision.

I would carry her with me, just like I carried Other Rin, but it still and would forever leave a final question: Who am I now?

A quote from one of my favourite movies came to mind.

"_You are who you choose to be."_

The giant had chosen Superman. I couldn't do that; I couldn't choose to be a hero. I couldn't even choose which side of me was the real me, and if I could, why would I?

Tell me, if you suddenly found yourself in a world full of monsters, where you're regarded as possibly one of the worst monsters of them all, would you choose to be a hero?

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><p><strong>AN:** This chapter brought to you by _Right Where It Belongs_ by Nine Inch Nails. Actually, it and _I've Got You Under My Skin_ by Frank Sinatra are pretty much this story's theme songs. So, the chapter that's been planned since December 2013 is finished, wow. How was my return to first person?

I'm super happy I got this done before Naruto Storm 4's release (Feb 5th). I'll be MIA while playing it. Maybe I can get another chapter done before it comes out. In any case, I'm sure it will leave me very inspired for Jenrin (yep, the odd nickname had a purpose all along).

Also, to nip this in the bud: I don't subscribe to the overhyped fanon that fūinjutsu is impossible to do for non-geniuses and non-Uzumaki. All over canon you can see simple and standard fūinjutsu use; it's practically a household thing for shinobi. Feel free to read my profile or PM me if you need/want clarification.

Finally, massive thanks for the overwhelming support concerning my return! It meant a lot to have so many of you give encouraging words and tell me you're still reading.

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><p>SI recommendations: <em>Downward Spiral<em> by parakeats, _White Hair, Red Eyes, and a Pack of Lies_ by Ever-changing Creation, and _Staring at the Blue Sky _by Until The Bitter Ending.


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